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The settlement is no more. Perhaps this is a sign for us to put our resources elsewhere. If pirates want the Strait of Magellan, maybe it’s best we let them have it.

With regards,

Halberdier of the Guard, Felipe

Chapter Twenty

Dear Doctor Van Helsing,

I am unsure if you remember me or not. Even though I am told we blood-letters are able to procure memories in our mind’s eye, I’m afraid the longer I live, the less space I have inside my brain for everything and everyone I encounter, and perhaps the same is true for you.

But let me reintroduce myself. My name is Eros Fausta. I worked with you at the monastery, San Juan de la Pena. I helped teach many of the reformed disciples how to read and write, and I know you had formed a deep friendship with one of them, the witch Armand Alcaraz, whom you renamed Aragon. I wasn’t with the monastery for long—my calling pulled me away elsewhere—but when I had returned much later, it was said that you and Aragon had left for a settlement at the bottom of the world.

I, too, ended up this way, for different reasons, on a ship that went through the Strait of Magellan. It was here, from the bow, that I glimpsed who I believed to be Father Aragon. Or rather, it had been the priest. He was half-monster, with a broken wing, standing on the shore and watching the ship pass. I could smell him, and I remembered his scent, which is what made me recognize him, for there were no real signs that it was the man I remembered.

I am in India at the moment, and I am unsure whether you are back at the monastery or if you perhaps were with Aragon down below. I don’t know if you are alive, but I have a feeling you are. In the event that this is news to you, I wanted to let you know what I saw. There is a chance I was wrong—I was the only one who saw the monster—but I don’t think I am. I wish I was. There seemed to be something wrapped around the creature’s wrist—a rosary, perhaps.

Coincidentally or not, when we passed the settlement of Nombre de Jesus, there was nothing left of it. It had been burnt to a crisp, with only a few gravestones standing. A chilling sight, to say the least, and I’ve seen a lot.

I’m sorry if I am bearing bad news. I am even sorrier if Doctor Van Helsing is no more. I hope whoever receives this letter finds it to be helpful in some way.

Your old friend,

Eros Fausta

Chapter Twenty-One

To Captain Battista of the good ship Nightwind,

I hope this letter finds you well, or finds you at all. An albatross is a new delivery system for me, but the Vampyre I have corresponded with assures me it will find its way to you in a timely manner.

I will be in the village of Valparaiso this coming March with a dear friend of mine, Aragon, who is also part of your Brethren. We have heard you will be sailing through on your way to the southern seas and would like to join your crew. We both have experience fighting, and while our morals might drive a human to church, we are both of sound mind and constitution. I have heard that you are heading to a Syren colony off Roche Island, and Aragon has a bit of experience with Syrens himself. Perhaps he can be of some assistance on the journey.

Either way, we will be waiting for you. If you pass through, ask for Doctor Van Helsing, and they will fetch me.

Doctor Abraham Van Helsing

P.S. If you don’t wish to have the Spanish attack you, do not fly the Jolly Roger. They are a prickly bunch.

Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

PRIEST

Five Years Later

“Nervous?” Abe asks me.

I frown, shooting him a quick glance before going back to watching the harbor. “Why should I be nervous?”

“First day in a new vocation has got to be rather nerve-racking.”

“You act like being a pirate is a job.”

“Isn’t it?” he asks, but in my peripheral vision, I see him stroking his beard, something he does when he has a case of the nerves.

I can’t blame either of us, though I think it’s more anxiety that the ship won’t show up at all.