"We gather with the blessings of our various deities."

Ivern's voice carried across the Walloxa. He stood by the helm, looking very much like a priest on a dais. The crew had gathered as they would in a church. Soren stood near Ivern, gaze downcast. He thought of the people in his crew and appreciated the way Ivern had altered the traditional Teltish ceremony opening.

Ivern skipped over the usual prayers that followed, just as they had discussed. "Today, we ask the Goddess to bless the soul of Captain Tanden, who was taken too soon at only twenty-nine. He captained the WDN Wanderlust for just ten years, but for those of us who were with him for the entire time, it felt much longer. He led us on more adventures than seems possible. To the very top of the continent, to the very bottom. All eleven countries. His adventurous spirit will never be forgotten. Though we cannot give him a Teltish burial, we find peace knowing that the Goddess will welcome him into her Realm with open arms. His soul will continue to watch over us."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of the ship. It felt right, as if the waves and seagulls were saying goodbye to someone who had truly belonged to them.

It was a Teltish ceremony, and so Soren waited until Ivern gave him a slight nod. Then he stepped forward, and took a deep breath.

He had only half prepared for this. Thinking about Tanden being gone was still too raw. He couldn't focus on the thought for too long before breaking down. But he had insisted. Tanden wasn't a Crelan, but he behaved like one. Ivern had agreed that the traditional Crelan phrases would be a nice addition. And more importantly, he had assured Soren that the Teltish Goddess wouldn't be offended.

"Captain..." Soren faltered. Although it didn't currently hurt, he pressed a hand against his wound. "Tanden. My lord, my Captain, my husband. The smartest, most charming man on the ocean. You have earned your place with the Old God of the Sea, or the Goddess." Despite the hollow feeling in his chest, the next thought nearly made him smile. "You've earned your place at the dinner party in the sky."

The idea was comforting, whether it was possible or not. It was nice to imagine Tanden, surrounded by goddesses and gods. Of course he would be charming them, flipping between languages as easily as breathing. Tanden was irresistible and fascinating. Not even deities could possibly resist him.

Lost in thought, it wasn't until Ivern touched his shoulder than Soren remembered that he was supposed to move the ceremony along. He tried to force the thoughts away and found Ara's gaze in the crowd, then nodded.

Ara climbed up the steps to join them on the quarterdeck. "Jale was—" He seemed to realize he was talking too quietly, swallowed, and tried again. "Jale was Tallenese. I am, too, in a way. We pray with songs. I'm going to sing our funeral song. It's about... wishing her well, wherever she is now. Um... right." He clasped his hands together and took a deep breath.

His voice was shaky at first, but grew more confident as he continued singing. It was a beautiful song, slow and mournful. Ara stared down at the deck as he sang. The crew listened quietly, every one of them perfectly still. It seemed like even the seagulls and waves quieted down respectfully.

When Ara finished, he reached up to wipe his teary eyes. There was another long moment of silence. Soren hated to break it, but they couldn't lose too much of the day of travel.

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat before speaking with all the firm authority he could manage. "We need to get moving. The people who took Tanden and Jale from us are still ahead. Let's catch up."

There were grumbles of agreement from the crew. Ivern immediately began calling orders. Down on the main deck, Jerios used flags to communicate with Elorie's ship. Her voice faintly carried across the water as she shouted orders to her own crew. It suddenly occurred to Soren that he was leading a tiny fleet.

That thought dispersed as quickly as it had come, because Ara had moved closer, and he was crying.

Soren was still uselessly holding his wound, but he draped his other arm over Ara's shoulder and pulled him into a hug. "You did a good job. She would be honoured." Maybe Jale was there too, he thought. Sitting across the table from Tanden, bickering with him just like a sibling would.

Ara nodded against his chest, but didn't speak. Soren didn't mind. They both needed a moment.

***

Ara stayed close over the next few days, and Soren appreciated his proximity. He tried to distract himself by working on the ship, or communicating with Elorie and planning ahead. He did a fairly good job of keeping busy, but when the thoughts came, it was nice to have Ara nearby.

It was small things that he found comforting. Squeezing Ara's hand or a brief hug was usually enough to help Soren temporarily force away his sorrow. At night, simply holding Ara in his arms helped him feel settled enough to fall asleep.

Everyone in the crew was mourning, but he and Ara were mourning differently, and having each other helped.

***

Days passed.

They had to make a few stops to get food and fresh water, but mostly kept up their steady pace West. The desire to catch up with Rico and the rest of the pirates still drove the crew, but it was different. They still had people to try to rescue, but revenge was what really kept them motivated. Soren could nearly feel the change in the air.

Povic, Starios and Folti hadn't been forgotten, but sailors were at least somewhat accustomed to losing crewmates. Sicknesses and accidents had never been common on the Wanderlust, but they were known hazards to working on a ship. Of course, as their captain, Soren was supposed to care about all of them equally.

But Jale and Tanden left uniquely shaped holes in the crew, and the crew wasn't going to move on.

When the coastline began to curve to the North, Soren had Elorie's ship signalled. She glided up to float on the Walloxa's stern side, and a plank was quickly laid out so Elorie could cross. She brought Kija the young Alvarian who could speak Teltish, along. Soren met the pair on the main deck, with Roan and Ivern flanking him. Jerios, more often than not, had been managing the helm. He was still limping, which made some of the usual tasks difficult.

Elorie eyed the three men, her arms casually crossed over her chest as if she was entirely at ease. Kija hovered behind her.

"So. I suppose you didn't call me over for a pleasant chat?"

Soren refused to let her outmaneuver him verbally. Her conversations with Tanden had always been like elaborate duels, but Soren had no patience for it. He knew how to break through Tanden's eloquence, surely he could do the same with Elorie.

"I need to know what to expect along this stretch of coast," Soren said. "And, how far North you think Rico and Toliver have gone. Rico, at least, is no stranger to Xaoto."

Elorie tilted her head. "Rico doesn't like Xaoto, but he was hidden within your crew. He wouldn't visit in his own ship. Xaoto is too well defended. We won't get close either, unless we change flags."

"But pirates can sail between the Gold and Silver Islands and the mainland safely?"

"Not so easily," Elorie said. "But it can be done with caution. And necessary, if you want to catch merchants. Do you have a map? Of course you do." She stepped forward, then abruptly stopped when Soren didn't move. "We need to go find the Walloxa's maps."

"We're talking here," Soren said. "My crew have every right to hear what you have to say." Without turning around, he simply said, "Roan?"

"Aye, Cap'n, give me a moment."

Soren watched Elorie as she stepped back with a barely concealed sigh. She settled back into position, crossing her arms, resting her weight on her left leg. They waited in complete silence until Roan returned. He had a rolled up map tucked under his right arm and a small table under his left. He placed the table between them, lay down the map and unrolled it. Ivern stepped up to help hold down the corners.

Elorie held Soren's gaze a moment longer, then leaned over the map. "This stretch here is the safest of catching merchants." She traced her finger along the coastline. "Xaoto to the Staedin-Moatt border. Any further North and there's the risk of meeting Navirian navy ships. Too far South and you might meet the..." She looked over her shoulder and spoke in Alvarian.

Kija replied, his voice shaky and timid. After all, Soren reminded himself, the boy thought he was on a ghost ship. "Coastguard?"

Elorie nodded. "Yes, that's a good word for it. Now, here we are." She tapped the bottom left corner of Alvara's coast. "Wealthy merchants don't come here. We trade people along the southern coast, and a bit into the Alvan Bay. There are some towns along the bayside coast of Staedin who will take slaves."

"Cray Shia?" Soren asked. The country also had access to the Alvan Bay.

"That side is all mountains," Elorie replied dismissively. "So, no. Trading people along this coast can be profitable, but if you really want to make money, you risk passing Xaoto and take merchants along Staedin and Cray Shia. Bring those goods back to the Southern coast, and sell it all. It makes crossing Xaoto worth the risk."

Soren considered everything she had said, but his mind caught on one detail. "If trading people can be profitable, why not sell Tanden and Jale?"

Elorie looked up, her dark eyes meeting Soren's. "Tanden wasn't the type of person who can be sold. Valuable skills, absolutely. But as the younger brother of the man who owns Zianna's biggest navy, he was too much of a risk. Killing him was not the solution. Jale got caught in the middle." Elorie sighed. "Probably better for her that way, in the end. But thinking about that doesn't help us now."

It really didn't. Losing himself in the past wouldn't help anybody. Soren pointed at the map, near the border between Staedin and Cray Shia. "So they'll be heading here."

"Most likely. And if we keep following them North, they'll run out of places to run. Like I said, nobody gets too close to Navire."

Soren nodded. "And you said something about switching flags?"

"It's an old trick, can provide a bit of a disguise when passing Xaoto, as long as nobody looks too closely."

Already, an idea was coming together. Soren looked sideways, at Ivern. "Can we dye some cloth blue?"

"Don't see why not, Captain."

Maybe flying the West Draulin flag wasn't the best idea. It certainly wasn't the subtlest way to sneak up on Rico and Toliver. But it felt right. Soren nodded again. "Good. So, we'll keep moving North. Chase them towards Navire."

Elorie nodded curtly. "Can I go back to my ship, now?"

"Bad luck not t' name a ship," Roan grumbled.

She looked at him. "Superstition means nothing to me, and I refuse to call the ship by the name Toliver gave it. Can I go?"

"One last thing," Soren said. "Are you any good with a cutlass?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "When my opponents aren't throwing furniture at me, yes."

"Good." Soren smiled grimly. "I need some practice."