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“Trained pirates don’t fall overboard without a trace. Something is at work here.”

“We’ll double patrols.”

“That’s what we did.”

“No one will go anywhere on the ship without a partner.”

“Tried that, too. People started disappearing two at a time.”

“Do you have anything helpful to say?”

Kearan bites his lip and scratches at his beard, giving the question serious thought. “They always went missing at night. Light every lantern on the ship. Have most of the crew active at night rather than during the day. Have people watching over those who are sleeping.”

“We risk going through our oil and candles too quickly,” I say.

Kearan shrugs. “Better than going through our crew too quickly.”

Indeed. “We’ll see it done. Thank you,” I tack on belatedly.

Awkwardly.

“You’re welcome,” he says.

Then he just stands there.

“You can go now,” I say.

“Right.”

The hold is emptied and refilled; every box, barrel, crate, and nook searched. Jadine riffles through her kitchen with her helpers.

We come up empty. Not so much as a drop of blood is to be found. She’s not anywhere on the ship.

I see Kearan’s advice carried out. The day and night crew swap shifts. We light every candle and lantern we can find at night, setting them along the railings, tying them up in the rigging. There’s not a speck of darkness to be found above deck. I write to Alosa, appraising her of the situation, but I don’t turn back. We’ve a job to do. We can save more than we’ve lost at this point.

The next evening, Enwen is whistling loudly while he checks the lines on the ship. When Kearan barks at him to keep it down, Enwen completely ignores him.

Kearan doesn’t like that. I can tell by the way he tightens his grip on the helm, but he follows Enwen’s example and ignores him right back. Dimella, however, is not content to let Enwen carry on. She marches up to him and says something I can’t quite hear. When he stares at her blankly, I can tell something is wrong, and I start to head for the pair.

Dimella reaches out for Enwen’s coat, pulls him down to her level, then grips him by the ear.

“Ow,” he says loudly.

She starts parading him in my direction by the ear, and he’s helpless to do anything but follow. I meet her in the middle of the ship.

“He’s got something in his ears,” Dimella explains.

I inspect for myself. Is that … wax?

I’m about to gesture for Enwen to remove it, but Dimella has no qualms about doing it for him.

“Ow!” he says again.

“What the hell are you doing?” my first mate asks.

“My duties,” he responds.

She holds the glob of yellow-white wax up to his eyes to make her meaning clearer.