Alli stayed very still and quiet, her heart thumping quietly. Outside, the sound of the scuffle began to dissipate, and the captain's quarters descended into still, deadly silence. Rusher, Britter and Marquis had all dragged Kingsley away, leaving Alli the only one left in the awful quiet.

Then, after a moment, she could hear the blood dripping from Silta's chin to the floor.

It was odd that Alli had been in the captain's quarters, but since the navigation room was getting soaked by every passing wave, they'd moved upstairs. It had been a relaxing morning, the sky dark and grey. In fact, six minutes ago, Alli's biggest problem was the twinge of hunger in her stomach and the frustration that Britter still hadn't spoken to her since his admission of his very small feelings.

Now, Alli couldn't even remember what those problems had been. Her biggest concern now was her heart, beating far quicker than it ever had. She'd tried to help, knowing Kingsley was going to wish someone had knocked him out quicker, but the moment he'd turned around, ready to put a stop to her efforts, Alli had feared for her life. She'd known he was a capable man, but she'd never known him to be a violent man. She'd seen the mess with Rusher and him, but that had been to save Shuri and Alli. He'd always been violent with a clear, purpose, and that purpose was always the life and safety of someone else. He never went after people without those reasons.

Alli waited for a full minute before she glanced over at Silta. She was still on the floor, eyes closed, blood everywhere. Bruises were crawling over her neck, and her teeth were the colour of Bloodsea. Alli would be rather surprised if her nose and jaw were still intact.

Alli had seen Silta go for people without firm reason. She didn't do it often on the Avourienne, but Silta was the type of skilled that was unbeatable. Alli had just watched her take punch after punch—nearly die from lack of air—and not once did she fight back.

Although Alli didn't understand who the sunny blonde girl on deck had been a few days ago, she'd extrapolated to figure out that it was a pretty bad thing. And still, she'd flinched after each of one Kingsley's insults. Silta probably deserved them, but Alli still hated to hear them from the mouth of a man she respected so greatly.

"Laurier, love?"

Alli's head snapped towards the sound of Silta's words. They were dry and raspy, cold and broken.

"Would you grab that for me?" she asked, slightly nodding her head over to the other side of the desk.

Alli followed her gaze, her eyes landing on the bronze chain Kingsley had thrown. She bent down, picked it up, then walked over and dropped it in Silta's hands.

Her fingers closed around the necklace, staining it with blood. She said nothing more.

The doors opened again, and a calm Miller walked through. She had a little box with her, and she knelt down next to Silta. She didn't say anything until Silta waved her away, pushing her arms out of the way when she moved in.

"This is my job, Captain," Miller said softly. Alli had had a few conversations with the doctor before, and she'd decided that she liked her.

Silta still refused, to which Miller said, "I just need to make sure nothing is broken. It's important."

Silta rested her head on the wall and sighed. Miller reached out, feeling the shape of Silta's face and neck. The Captain didn't flinch, just kept her eyes straight.

"That boy's got a nasty punch," Miller said. "But it's still no match for those Siren bones." She smiled.

"He missed and hit the wall once," Silta said. "I think he broke a finger."

Alli barked out a laugh, for she couldn't help it. Silta glanced at her.

Miller stood. "Broken fingers are awful if they're not braced. He'll probably never punch properly again. Or write, actually. Probably won't be able to lift anything." She clapped her hands together. "A shame, really. Anyway—"

"Miller," Silta said.

"Nope. Not doing it."

"Miller," Silta said.

"But—"

"Go. Take Jackson in case he wakes up. Brace his finger, Miller. I won't tell you again."

Miller gave her a look, then gathered her box. "Yes, Captain," she mumbled. She sulked her way out of the room.

On her way out, Miller passed by Britter and Rusher coming back in, their faces red with effort. Rusher tapped Alli on the shoulder and pointed to the map they were drawing. "Coordinates," he said.

Alli was looking at Britter. Kingsley had managed a good hit across his temple, and the stiches there had pulled through. He knelt down to Silta, tugging her under the arms and pulling her up. He tucked an arm under her knees and picked her up, carrying her to the captain's room.

Rusher snapped his fingers at Alli. He pointed to the map again.

"But—there's—she's—" Alli tried to talk.

"She'll be fine," Rusher said, leaning against the table. "You think she's never taken a punch before? Draw the damn coordinates."

"Not thirty punches in a row—"

"She'll be fine." Britter appeared out of the captain's room, shutting the door behind him. "Seen worse," he said. "Draw the coordinates."

Alli looked down at the map. Everything felt off and weird. Kingsley didn't do that to people. Silta didn't refuse to fight.

"Laurier," Rusher said.

"Give me a minute, will you?" Alli snapped. She was thinking of too many things. She had to focus.

Britter came over and glanced at the map from behind her. He leaned over her shoulder, seemingly unaware she couldn't focus when he did that.

Alli shook her head. Bloodsea, fully rotated stars. From the original map, the coordinates should be...

Alli didn't know. Something about the math wasn't adding up. The stars didn't make sense.

"I don't...know," Alli said carefully.

Rusher blinked once. "Say that again."

Alli looked at him, then helplessly to Britter, hoping him and his very small feelings would save her from being beaten worse than Silta.

Britter leaned against the table and regarded her. "What do you mean, 'you don't know'?"

"I mean, the map doesn't really make sense. The stars and the coordinates...It doesn't make any sense. The pattern is one thing, but when you transfer the math over, it doesn't work."

Britter sighed. "Did you ever have this map memorized? Or have you been giving fake shit for weeks?"

Alli shook her head violently. "No. No, I know the map; I could draw it out for you. But this particular coordinate just isn't matching."

Britter shook his head and nodded to Rusher. "Go get Valour," he said.

The navigator stood and exited the room, searching for the scientist.

"You have this map memorized, Laurier?" Britter asked again.

"I have it memorized," Alli told him. She did. "I promise."

"Doesn't mean much to me," he replied.

"It should," Alli told him. "If I tell you I promise, it's because I mean it."

He hummed, so uninterested in her. "I promise to cherish and love you for the rest of our lives. I promise to provide for you and the family we may grow, and I promise to protect you and that family from whatever may come our way."

Alli blinked. "What?"

"My vows," he said. "Had them written on my hand the day I killed the woman I was supposed to say them to. Strangled her just like Kingsley did with Silta, except I actually finished it, and when I was done, those words from my hands had transferred to her neck."

Alli struggled to maintain eye contact. That couldn't have happened. Not Britter, with the pretty smile and the gentle hands.

"Don't promise me," he said. "It doesn't mean much."

She watched him carefully for a moment. "Why?"

"Why what, Alli?"

"Why...kill her like that?"

He shrugged. "I'm selfish. It was that or we both die, and I didn't want to die."

When he simplified it to that, it made more sense. Alli liked to believe she'd go down with her lover in a calm, romantic way, but she'd probably panic and end up fighting, too.

"Then it's different," she concluded.

He smiled. "Was it that good?" he asked. "So good that you jump through hoop after hoop to convince yourself I'm a decent man?"

"Was it so bad that you refuse to talk to me?"

His brows furrowed, but it reeked of condescension. "No lovers on the ship, Laurier. That's the rule."

Alli sputtered out a laugh. "Your Captain—"

"Is a hypocrite," he finished. "And a damn good example of what not to do and why."

Alli shook her head. "I don't mean Silta, I mean Bardarian—the man you told me you trusted and admired all your life. Bardarian, who loved a woman for years. Your idol didn't follow his own damn rule and it was the best thing to ever happen to him."

"You like your stories, Alli," Britter mused. "And I truly do hate to burst your happy, romantic little bubble, but that love story that you fawn over—it wasn't what you think it was. Ever wonder why Bardarian only had eight fingers? Why he had that scar over his eye? They were more enemies than lovers, Alli. Silta broke his nose once; he dislocated her shoulder. She smashed a bottle of rum over his head and knocked him unconscious for almost a full day. He pushed her over the rail one day during a fight. They were in love, maybe, but they hated each other."

Alli hadn't known any of that. But to her, that made the story all the more tragic. All the more flamboyant.

She regarded Britter carefully, taking a step closer. "Do you know how in love you have to be to fight like that?" she asked him. "Really in love. Bardarian had that. Bad days, but at least bad days with someone he loved. That's living, Liam. I don't care about Silta's threats—"

"You should. You're careless with your life."

Alli took a step closer, frustrated. "People keep telling me that—that I'm irrational and impulsive. Maybe I'm just living. Maybe I'm just doing it properly."

Britter gave a lengthy sigh. He was amused, but he wasn't convinced.

"Perhaps you're too careful," Alli insisted, "despite all your heroics. Perhaps you're scared of what happened last time. But there's more to life than what you're doing—devoting your life to a woman who can't tell up from down at this point." She took a step closer, exhilarated to have bridged the distance. Exhilarated to be near him.

There was a sly twist of his mouth as he watched her speak, his face otherwise still. He leaned in close, his breath warm as he said, "There's a difference between daring and careless. You, Laurier, are the latter."

He pulled away as the door opened behind Alli, causing her to turn. Rusher and the scientist, Valour, walked through.

"Obviously you're having trouble with the map. It's Bloodsea. The skies will be all wrong here." Vikki pushed her way over to the table—between Alli and Britter.

Vikki touched the map Alexander had drawn and flipped it slightly. "There," she said. "Fixed. You've got to turn it thirty degrees and divide everything as such. It should make sense now."

Alexander gestured to Alli, whose heart was racing with Britter's previous closeness. She didn't dare to look at him now. "Um." Her eyes searched the map, the stars falling into place. "Yeah. That looks better. Here's the new one." She drew the coordinate on the map and tossed the pencil down. "That's right." She spun around, her head dizzy.

Britter was looking at her, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"I...is there anything else you need me for?" Alli asked, looking at Britter but talking to Rusher.

"No," Rusher said, not looking. "Not until tomorrow night."

Alli nodded. She was frozen for a moment, and then she took a few steps backward. She needed advice on what to do with Britter, but Kingsley was off the rails and Shuri was traumatized. Alli didn't really have anyone else.

Alli glanced at the captain's door. Well, not no one else.

In one final, bold surge, Alli made her way over, refusing to listen to Britter and Rusher's warnings as she reached for the captain's room handle. She twisted it and pushed inside, the dark air stale and heavy.

Alli closed the door behind her. It took her a moment to adjust to the light.

"You are amusing as hell." Silta was sitting up on her bed, curtains drawn and legs crossed. She looked comfortable despite her state. The only thing she held in her hands was that necklace she'd asked Alli to get for her. She'd wiped the blood off, but the cuts still remained and the bruises around her eye and over her cheekbone were colouring.

"What do I do about Britter?" Alli asked her, leaning back against the door.

"If you were a member of my crew, I would entertain you—maybe—but you're not. So instead, I'm going to tell you to leave."

"What are you going to do?" Alli said, drawing closer and sitting on the edge of the bed. "You can't make me—you can't even stand."

Silta glanced up, her eyes dark in the lighting and a whisper of a smile on her face. "I can still throw things quite well," she pointed out. "But I like your nerve, so I'll answer your question. Do what you want with Britter, just don't fall in love with him."

"For my benefit, or for his?" Alli asked, searching what was left of the Captain's stunning face.

Silta shrugged. "Both. Rule number five: Limit Your Weakness. The more people you care for, the more control you take out of your hands and put into the hands of others. Don't ever give parts of yourself to anyone else."

Alli listened carefully. She listened, and she understood, but she didn't agree.

"Letting people in isn't always a weakness," Alli pointed out. "Sometimes, they save you. Britter could protect me from things. He's better than I am."

"And what do you think that does to him?" she asked, her response surprisingly rapid—as if she knew what Alli was going to say. "Protecting you gives him an exploitable weakness."

Alli considered this. "Yeah," she said. "That's true. That's a good point."

Silta ran her tongue over an extremely sharp tooth. "You have potential, Laurier. That memory of yours—the bravery you have, it's all potential. You just don't know how to use it. You focus on things like Britter instead of ambition."

"I want love," Alli told her. "Love like you have."

Silta narrowed her eyes, looking at Alli and making a clear point.

Alli didn't let the gaze bother her. "Fine," she said. "Love you could have, if only you weren't such an awful person. Honestly, how did you think he'd react?"

"Like he did," she replied. "But I always thought I'd fight back."

Alli took a moment to think. Silta responded so quickly that Alli had to take a minute to reply. She formed her thoughts.

"Why didn't you?" she asked, drawing a pattern on the white covers.

Silta watched her carefully, and Alli felt the sickening feeling of being assessed. "That, love, is hardly your business."

"Can you tell me, still?" Alli begged. "You know, because I won't blab and everyone calls me the mini-you."

She raised a brow slightly. "You'll never be me, Laurier, but it's probably a good thing in your eyes."

"I won't tell. I've admired you my entire life, and all I ask for is that tell me why you didn't fight a fight you could've won."

Her eyes shone in the darkness, piercing and beautiful. "If there's one thing I've learned from him, it's that losing something is so much worse than never having it. The things you do, the actions you carry out, you never really know how you feel about them until they're over. You think you want revenge; you think you have to make it even, but in the end, it doesn't change what's happened. You think you're not in love, but then you're betrayed by the person you think you're not in love with, or watch them shatter into a thousand pieces, and then you realize that you are, very much, in love."

Alli watched her carefully. She knew what she was being told, but she guessed the same words had never been told to Kingsley.

"Your captain, Laurier," Silta continued, "is going to wake up in a few hours, and he's going to feel awful. He's going to hate himself for what he's done, and he's going to wish he could take it back—not the punches, but the words. Because you never really realize that you're still in love until you just can't hold the choke long enough."

"Then I don't get it," Alli admitted. "If you love him, and he loves you, then it doesn't make sense to run around each other when you could just be in love."

Silta smiled, but there was the undertone of mystery to it, and it made Alli want to melt. She completely understood how Silta had twisted so many people around her fingers.

"Kingsley and I lack a common ground," Silta said. "Nothing concrete to agree on, nothing to come back to, just the fact that our minds work in a similar way, which isn't enough to justify the fighting and the hell. I stayed with Bardarian because even though it was risky, at least we agreed on the vital things."

"So you—the most powerful person in the ocean—are just afraid to get hurt," Alli concluded.

Silta shrugged. "If that's what you understood from that. None of it matters anyway, because we're going to lose."

Alli leaned back. She hadn't noticed at first, but in the last few moments, Silta's gaze had become a little more faraway and a tad more...glassy.

"Lose?" Alli repeated.

Silta leaned forward. "I'm an excellent player, Alli, but I can't play like this. I can't even sleep, much less think. So frankly, love, you've chosen the wrong side, because I'm going to lose."

"Lose," Alli repeated.

"I'm in a checkmate, Alli. Sometimes I know it, sometimes I don't. But when I do know it, when I can see the board, I know that I only have one option. Three ways out of a checkmate: kill, move, block. I can't kill. I can't move. I have to block—which means sacrificing a player." Her head tilted at an awful angle, eyes focused on the wall somewhere behind Alli.

"Then...block," Alli whispered.

"But I only have one player I can block with," Silta whispered. Then, after a moment, "My queen."

Alli backed away, into the door. Silta had told her a lot of things she could work with, a lot of interesting, decipherable things. But her time with the sane part of the Captain had ended. So she opened the door and backed out into the captain's quarters. She shut the door in front of her.

Which means sacrificing a player.

Behind Alli, Britter let out a stale laugh. "By the Devil, Laurier, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Alli spun around. "I will not become her," she told him, zeroing in. "I will not refuse to love someone because it's a weakness—I will not subject myself to misery because I'm afraid or you're afraid." Driven by anger and the desperate need to not become the cold woman Silta had, Alli pointed to Britter. "You and I, Liam, we're together. Which means you don't sleep with other women. It means that if you lash out and call me a bitch, you apologize. It means that you'll ask me what's wrong if I look upset. Do you understand those things?"

"No," he said. "No, I don't, because I didn't agree to any of that—"

"Because you're scared? Or because you don't want me? If it's the latter, you can say no, and that's that. But if it's the former, then you have to say yes."

"No, I don't."

"So it is the former."

He shook his head, glancing at Rusher with a laugh. "That's not what I said."

"I think it is. And as such, I'm closing the deal. You and me."

Britter lifted his hands, still shaking his head. "Hold on—"

"I'm moving back to your room," Alli muttered, heading for the door. "Shuri is depressing as hell, and your bed is bigger."

He laughed again. "Laurier—"

Alli shut the door behind her. So it wasn't a romantic, story-for-the-ages sort of declaration. Whatever. Men like that needed a push. It was something, and it was hers to destroy or nurture if she wanted.

Alli smiled and clasped her hands together. So what if Kingsley and Silta were all torn up? Alli was putting the one she wanted back together.