Low tide meant the wreck was nearly entirely visible.

She sat in the shallow water, listing to the side. Parts of her hull were dark and charred from the fire, others were scraped and beaten by the sand and waves. Her mainmast was snapped and hung over the side, it's end dipping beneath the water. Her unique blue sails hung torn and limp, ragged strips drifting in the breeze. Nearly two years of sitting in the ocean had warped her once pristine wood, and the parts of her hull not covered in barnacles revealed flaking, ruined paint.

His beautiful Wanderlust, beached and broken. The sight tore at Tanden's heart.

He stood on the deck of his new barquentine, elbows resting on the bulwark, waiting while some of the men prepared the Waterborne. The new ship was nearly identical to the Wanderlust. The shipwrights in Crele had saved her plans and remade her, with only a few tweaks. The Captain's Quarters had been slightly rearranged to accommodate a slightly bigger bed, more comfortable for two men to share. A cabinet with glass doors, to display their treasures, had also been added to the space. Her sails were blue, but lacking the distinct helm design Tanden had included on the Wanderlust's spanker sail.

She was a lovely ship, really. Even if Soren had insisted on not naming her. It had been a risky decision. Plenty of cultures held superstitious beliefs about nameless ships, Crelans chief among them. But Soren had insisted, and Tanden had agreed even if he didn't quite understand why.

The trip south itself had taken a lot of time, but the biggest delay in returning to the wreck had been waiting for the new ship to be built. The Navirian prize money had been just enough to pay for her, and so they had kept the Walloxa for a handful of months, just to keep their crew employed with simple trading trips.

Tanden had, given the traumatic experience they had all been through, given every member of their crew the chance to leave. Their original men had stayed—Roan had told him off for even daring to suggest they would want to leave. They lost a few of the Navirians, but Kurias had chosen to remain with them. Kija had seemed baffled by the option before declining. Tanden had been willing to help Jale and Ara find passage back to Tallen Tiya, but they had both rejected his offer.

Jale said she wanted to see this through with them. Ara hadn't given an excuse, but it hadn't escaped Tanden's notice that he and Kuiva were spending a lot of time together. That had been back in Co. Now, months later, the two of them were nearly inseparable.

They were nearby now, whispering in an interesting combination of Tallenese and Xalish. Tanden was still working on learning Xalish, but those two had forgone the obstacle by just creating a new language between them.

Tanden watched them for a moment. They were almost as close to Zaxali as it was possible to get on a ship. Soon, there would be a decision to make.

Ara noticed him looking. He said something to Kuiva, then stepped around him to approach. Kuiva trailed after him. "Kuiva has something to tell you."

Maybe it was already time to make a decision. Tanden cast a quick glance over at the Wanderlust, then pushed himself off of the bulwark to stand straight. "All right." He prepared himself for the awkward way they used Xalish.

But Kuiavadox surprised him by speaking in tentative, slow Teltish. "I must tell to you why my..."

"People," Ara supplied when Kuiva glanced at him.

"...people allowed the taking... of me?"

It was a mystery that Tanden had never really forgotten, but it had always drifted behind whatever they were currently handling. Tanden nodded. "I have wondered."

Kuiva took a deep breath. His left hand fiddled with the end of his long braid, while his right found Ara's. "It is a kalsitash?"

"Tradition, I think," Ara said.

"Tradition for my people. Take long journey, to become a full man. A message to us from the gods, first, and we go."

Soren had appeared at Tanden's side. Which meant the Waterborne was ready, but Tanden was too curious to cut off Kuiva now. "You get a message that tells you when it is time for you to go."

Kuiva considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Tiik. When you fight, I tell to my mother—"

Tanden's jaw dropped. "That woman was your mother?" Had he kidnapped a prince?

"My mother to my mother," Kuiva continued dismissively, as if being the leader's grandson wasn't an important detail. "I tell to her, you are the message to me. If we go to Zaxali, they will not again cut your head."

"That's... encouraging," was all Tanden could think to say. His mind was already racing through Kuiva's broken words, thinking about the tradition, and how this meant visiting Zaxali again was possible. But before any plans could form, Soren clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"The Waterborne's ready."

"Right. Yes." Tanden half-spun to follow Soren, but paused long enough to say, "We'll pick up this conversation tonight." Then he let Soren tug him into motion.

Ivern, Jerios and Roan were clustered around the edge of the deck, having just lowered the Waterborne into the water.

"You're sure you don't need any help?" Roan asked.

"It's something we have to do on our own, mate," Soren said.

Jale stepped up, and handed the bag she was holding to Soren. "I found everything you asked for. Just be careful."

"Aren't we always?" Tanden smiled when she shot him a glare. "By the way, you should hear what Kuiva just told me—"

"Go," Soren interrupted.

Without another word, Tanden climbed over the bulwark and made his way down to the Waterborne. He caught the bag Soren tossed down to him, then settled back near the tiller as Soren climbed down to join him. Once Soren was situated, Tanden waved up at Ivern and Jerios to release the lines.

Soren managed the sails as Tanden steered. Quietly, they sailed the cutter over to the wreck. Tanden was caught off guard by how much approaching the Wanderlust felt like descending into a mausoleum. She was like a skeleton, broken beams in place of bones.

As they neared her, Soren raised the sails and pulled out oars. He rowed around her, coming across the place were the mizzenmast had crashed through her stern. The gaping, charred hole, which Soren had used to escape. Now it would act as their entrance.

Soren tied off the Waterborne. There was no need to talk. Tanden slung the bag over his shoulder and eyed the jumble of broken wood infront of him. They both knew how dangerous it was to climb into the wreck, just as they both knew how important it was for them to do it. Tanden climbed carefully up wood slippery with seaweed and sharp with barnacles. But the Wanderlust's bones were still strong. Nothing gave out as he hauled himself into the captain's quarters. For a moment, he took in the damaged room, before a scuffling sound behind him reminded him to turn and help Soren up the last bit of the climb.

The extreme low tide in the bay made exploring the wreck fairly easy, so Tanden was under no misconception. Pirates had almost certainly searched her thoroughly. Any valuable cargo they might have been carrying, if it had survived the fire, would be long gone.

But they weren't searching for valuables, they were searching for memories.

Soren had saved a few things. The Crelan sea chest had a treasured spot in their new quarters. It held Tanden's collection of family letters—the original paperwork it had held had been sent along to Zianna during their stay in Co. The maps and illustrations Soren had ripped down were once again pinned up. The wooden bear stood in the new treasure cabinet. He had even rescued Journey, who still spent most of her time sleeping on a pile of clothes in their new quarters.

But there were more treasures, more memories, that may have survived the fire and years of water damage. It was those that they had come to find.

Wood creaked underfoot, but Tanden wasn't worried. This was his ship.

He wandered deeper into the room. The rising and sinking tidal waters had moved everything around. Scraps of waterlogged clothing sat in messy heaps, or hung wherever they had snagged on pieces of broken wood. In one corner, the soggy remains of a few books seemed to be melting together. The desk, still bolted to the broken floor, was cracked down the middle.

"Tanden, look."

Across the room, Soren was holding a wooden disk. The paint had washed away, leaving the wood stained dark blue. Along the bottom, a row of evergreen trees had been burned into the wood. It was the gift they had been given in Esler Tigo.

"We'll take it," Tanden said.

Soren nodded and tucked the wooden circle under her arm before continuing his search.

Tanden found the remains of their Morcean masks next. They had been beautiful once, painted blue and gold, decorated with gems and feathers. Now, they were little more than a smear of wet plaster and bedraggled feathers.

"We'll have to buy more," Soren called over to him.

They were just objects, after all. Tanden stepped over them to continue his search. He found himself in the corner of the room that had contained most of their clothing. His old Crelan nautical jacket still hung from a hook, damaged probably beyond repair, but Tanden grabbed it anyway. It had been a gift from his brothers and Captain Roland, at the Wanderlust's first launch.

A pile of blue cloth caught his attention next. Tanden leaned down to grab the edge and stretch it out. It was his blue cloak. One of many, of course he had left plenty of formal clothing behind in West Draulin. But this one had travelled with him. It was stained and grown over with seaweed. Tanden tried to squeeze out some of the water, then draped it over his arm along with the jacket. Neither garment would ever be worn again, but if he could clean them, maybe they could be folded and put on display in the cabinet.

"The jar of coins is over here." Soren was picking it up with two hands. "Still sealed."

Tanden acknowledge that with a nod, but his attention had once again been caught by something. His sword. The leather sheath fell apart as soon as he tried to lift the sword, but the rest of it remained intact. A little rusty in some places, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Tanden held it up, wondering if things might have been different that night, if he had just taken the time to grab it before opening the door.

"Tanden?"

He looked over. Soren was holding a model ship. It had once been a perfect replica of the Wanderlust, made on Crele. The first gift Soren had ever given him. Now, it's masts were broken and a crack split the model in half. Tanden was dismayed, until something occurred to him.

"It's damaged in the same way."

Soren took a closer look. "Aye, looks like it."

"We'll keep it." Tanden crossed the room so Soren could put the things he had found into his bag. The continued to search a little longer, but there was nothing else both salvageable and meaningful. So they carefully climbed down to the Waterborne.

Back in the cutter, Soren picked up the oars again and rowed them around to the Wanderlust's bow. This, Tanden hadn't expected, although when he realized what Soren was aiming for, he understood.

The Wanderlust's bowsprit was still pointed at the sky, and below it, the figurehead gazed up. She truly was a beautiful piece of art. Tanden had designed her himself, after the Crelan tradition of carving the Ocean Queen onto their ships. She wore a necklace with two pendants, carved with the symbols of the Ziannan gods Roe and Tolle. That he had done to honor the Ziannan tradition of marking ships with the symbols for their ocean god and river goddess. The final unique detail he had included in her design was the map she was holding, which had been carved to be as accurate as possible. Or, he realized now, to be as accurate as he had thought at the time.

She was still a beautiful piece of art, even though her lower half was charred and her upper half was run through with tiny cracks. Tanden lifted his hand to touch her arm.

"I haven't seen her since I fell over the Attinabi waterfall," Tanden said quietly. "But she helped me quite a bit before that."

"We're taking her with us."

"What?" Tanden turned, to see that Soren was pulling a box of tools out from under the bench.

"You know the story," Soren said. "The Ocean Queen, the figurehead, is the spirit of the ship. If we take her, we'll have the Wanderlust's spirit. Her body is different, aye, but she'll still be our ship."

"This is why you didn't want to name her," Tanden said, as suddenly what had seemed odd became very meaningful. "Or give her a new figurehead."

"She already has a name," Soren said. "Let's get to work."

It was difficult to remove the figurehead. It would have been difficult even standing on solid ground, but being on the rocking Waterborne made it even harder. After trying a few different tools, they ended up resorting to sawing the figurehead off. Soren tied ropes around her as they worked, and finally the last, burned piece of wood gave way and she fell into the water. She bobbed back to the surface after a worrying dip beneath the surface.

As Soren was getting the oars ready again, Tanden lay his hand on the side of the ship. "Goodbye, my lady Wanderlust. Rest well."

***

They made a brief stop on the way back to their new ship. With a rope and knife in hand, Soren dove into the ocean and swam down the length of the mainmast. He tied the West Draulin and Zianna flags together before cutting them loose from the mast. Back on the Waterborne, they tried to hoist up the wet flags, only to realize they were too heavy. Instead, they towed them along with the figurehead.

It took a handful of men to first hoist the figurehead up onto the new barquentine, and then to yank up the flags. But once both things were on board, people got busy. Roan and a few of the other Crelans worked to mount the figurehead onto the empty space that had been left for her on the new ship. The flags were stretched out on deck to dry. They were torn and discoloured, but Soren could tell that Tanden liked having them back.

Maybe they could replace the makeshift West Draulin flag that they had kept from the Walloxa.

By the time the sun had set, the figurehead was securely attached and the flags were dry enough to hoist up the mainmast. Soren stood next to Tanden on the quarterdeck and watched the progress as they were raised.

Tanden broke the silence. "You said, 'she already has a name'. Care to enlighten me?"

"You know what it is," Soren said. "I have something for you." When Tanden looked, Soren held up a bottle of golden ovaisi.

Tanden blinked. "You want me to do a whole launching ceremony?"

"Seems appropriate, doesn't it?" Soren asked. He knew Tanden wouldn't be able to resist, and besides, it was something they all needed. "Some o' the lads are gettin' a bit antsy, what with her not havin' a name'n all."

Tanden rolled his eyes, before his gaze went back to the slowly raising flags. After a moment, he spoke again. "I do have an idea for her name, actually. But I don't know if it's the same thing you were thinking of."

"I think it is, Captain."

The title earned him a quick smile. As soon as they had stepped onboard the new barquentine, Tanden had been the captain again. But even though so much time had passed, Tanden wasn't exactly his old self. Most of the time, he was animated and confident, just like he had always been. But sometimes, he would slip into a more sullen, serious version of himself. Soren was getting good at recognizing the signs, and knew how to step up to support not only Tanden, but the crew.

A proper launching ceremony was something he knew Tanden would enjoy. And maybe having the Wanderlust's soul back with them would help with Tanden's moods. Soren already felt a change in himself, and in the ship. She felt more alive.

Tanden took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. "All right. But if I say something you don't like, you're not allowed to complain. That's just a consequence of being cryptic."

Soren laughed. "You know her name. I know you do. You're her Captain."

"We'll see." Tanden was interrupted by cheers from the crew as the flags reached the top of the mainmast. "Well, I suppose it's time, then." Before walking past, he gave Soren a quick kiss. "Tonight, you and I are celebrating."

"You told Ara and Kuiva they could join us tonight."

"They'll have to wait," Tanden said simply. "I've changed my mind. Just you and me tonight." Another kiss, then the words Soren would never get tired of hearing. "I love you."

Soren pulled him into a hug. "Reckon I love you, too, Captain."

Tanden smiled and gave him a swat on the shoulder so Soren would let go, then made for the stairs. Everyone noticed as he strolled down the stairs and hoped onto the bulwark. Soren joined the crew. Tanden made an impressive sight. He had picked the port side, silhouetting himself with the sunset. The Wanderlust's wreck was behind him, impossible to ignore. He had done it all on purpose, Soren had no doubt.

Tanden grabbed the shrouds he was standing by with his left hand, and flung out his right dramatically. "Friends, we find ourselves at both a funeral and a birth. The WDN Wanderlust launched approximately twelve years ago, and many of you were there to witness the event. She was our home, and she cared for us as long as she could. The Crelans—" His gaze met Soren's. "—believe that a ship's soul rests in her figurehead. By rescuing her figurehead, we have rescued her soul."

There was a collective murmur of understanding in the crew. Most of them weren't Crelan and wouldn't have understood the significance of taking the figurehead. Some of them, Soren remembered, had never even been aboard the Wanderlust. On their second trip south they had picked up crew in Moatt, Staedin and Cray Shia. With the exception of landlocked Faldon and Valdon, they now had crewmembers from every country on the continent.

"Knowing that we have her soul back with us means that we now know her name," Tanden continued. He held out his right hand. Soren uncorked the bottle of ovaisi, then handed it to him. "She is Our Lady Wanderlust!"

It was exactly what Soren had hoped he would say. He clapped and cheered with the rest of the crew for a moment, before Tanden held up the bottle and they all fell silent again.

"We are a crew of many beliefs, and I ask every god and goddess to bless us, and our ship. I welcome all of you to honour your own gods, but there are some in particular I would like to acknowledge." He took a deep breath. Soren had suspected this would be the difficult part. Tanden wouldn't want to insult anybody.

"I thank Attinabi, mother water, for giving me the gift of life. I am Attiabwa, waterborne, and the water provides what I need. I ask the Goddess' blessing on our journey and every journey to follow. I ask the Old God of the Sea for safe waters. I ask Roe for swift currents and I ask Tolle to calm her husband's temper." His eyes met Soren's again, with the word husband. "And finally, I ask the Sailor King and the Ocean Queen to guide our hands, to ensure we never slip, to keep our navigation steady and true. To Our Lady Wanderlust!"

Soren joined in the cheering again as Tanden poured the ovaisi into the ocean. It was a Zian, Deoran and Navirian custom, meant to appease Roe.

Tanden raised his voice one last time. "And so the adventure continues!"

***

Tanden and Soren will return in Greatest Thief 4

***

Wow, there it is, the end of the trilogy!

I've never finished a series before. It was difficult to make sure everything wrapped up nicely, but very worth it! I hope everyone thinks I did the boys justice in their ending. Thank you to everyone who has read, voted and commented on these three books!

I have a few ideas for bonus chapters, but I'm not sure when I'll get them done. So keep an eye on the book if you would like to see those!

If you would like to see more of these characters, and haven't already read my Greatest Thief series, I suggest checking it out! As I said above, the boys (and many of the other characters) will be making an appearance!