Page 2

Twenty Years Later

Lune surfaced, blinking waterdrops from his eyelashes. He took his compass out of his mouth and hooked it back onto his belt. He’d learned how to hold onto it the hard way.

The last time he’d done hull inspections on the Jade Raptor, his precious compass had slipped loose from his belt. It’d taken him two hours of sifting through sand and silt at the bottom of the harbor to find it.

That had been the most frantic, heart-pounding two hours of his life. Even more terrifying and traumatic than the time he’d been attacked by a shark. So much so that he now went to the blacksmith every six months to have the rivets and hooks on his belt inspected for durability.

Lune knew his compass was secure at his hip, because of his precautions, and it was how he usually wore the directional instrument. But today he felt extra anxious about it.

His compass was no ordinary bit of equipment. It was pure magic sculpted into a compass. Its purpose was to locate, and connect with his fated mate when the time was right. Someone he could spend his life with. So he wouldn’t have to be alone. If that’s what he really wanted .

Compass-marriages were strange and mysterious customs. They were few and very far between. They were revered and awed. Even he wasn’t exactly sure what it all meant. All he knew was that somewhere in the world, his Intended was in possession of a matching compass.

Here in the harbor, the little waves lapping at his neck were as cool and refreshing as it was beyond the reefs. It took a second to re-tie his wavy blond hair so the sopping wet strands wouldn’t get caught in his gills.

The water’s purity was in thanks to the harbormaster and her affinity with said element. Along with that, a little bit of purchased magic to help keep the waterways clean was like a guard dog who never slept.

Lune lingered with his inspections, bobbing around the hull of his beloved boat. Scrutinizing and testing every inch of the barnacle-scraped wood. They were damn lucky this time. There were just a couple of cosmetic scuffs below the waterline.

Being up the entire night, pacing during the worst storm of the season, had stressed him out.

His fifty-foot passenger boat had been knocked around.

She’d slipped her moorings, and been swept out.

Lune thanked the gods his assigned space was a straight shot out into the wilds, else he could’ve been responsible for damage to other craft.

But his Jade Raptor was back now, and safely in the arms of her doting parents.

Lune heaved a sigh of relief, and motioned up to Sachin, his cargo handler. The other man murmured something and patted the railing before sagging against it, a grin on his face.

Earlier this morning, when Lune watched the only thing he owned in life towed in by the harbor patrol, both he and Sachin had to keep each other upright they’d been so panicked.

Because the Jade Raptor was their livelihood.

Their heart and soul. The boat’s operation put food on the table, offered them freedom and adventure, and was Sachin’s home.

Except when there were terrible storms. Sachin would then tack up his hammock in Lune’s room at the beach house.

Lune closed his eyes briefly, thanking the gods he’d convinced Sachin to sleep inland last night. It was always a challenge, as the Jade Raptor was as much Sachin’s baby as it was his.

Most of the damage was topside. The main concern being the sail had been shredded by high winds and punishing waves.

Lune knew he’d have to dip into his savings for the sail repairs.

Or worse, he’d have to purchase a brand new one.

Fingers crossed, it could be repaired. The construction and labor of that alone would set him back several more years.

Force him back into a debt he just got out of.

He’d only owned the Jade Raptor outright for two short months.

“She’s strong, boss. She’ll be up and running in no time. Leave it to me,” Sachin offered anxiously. “I’ll call in some favors, get the work prioritized. A week, tops.”

His friend was trying to be upbeat. Sachin was the only employee he could afford—barely.

Lune plucked a coin from his purse and flipped it upwards with a splash. “Why don’t you get back to your cabin and start re-organizing your stuff? Dinner’s on me.”

Sachin caught it. “Thanks. But I’ll save that cleaning for tomorrow. I’m beat. Just going to grab some grub and then it’s hammock time.”

He’d offer to help tidy the inside, but Sachin was very prickly about his privacy. Lune respected that, despite being captain and sole owner of the Jade Raptor. The cabin was Sachin’s home, and Lune would not enter unless invited, or if the boat was in danger of sinking.

“Night then.” Lune was beat, too. There was nothing more desired than the need to face-plant himself in his bed.

“See ya bright and early, boss.”

“Don’t bother,” Lune reminded. “You know how the sailmaker is after temple festivals. Especially the ones celebrating the undead phoenix god. He’s not going to open until noon, at least.”

“Grim’s talons.” Sachin complained with a good-natured sigh. “Oh well. That’ll give me some extra sleep and time to set my room to rights. I’ll knock at his door with strawberry pastries. They’re finally in season.”

“Don’t forget black coffee.” Lune laughed. “That’ll get him out of bed.”

“From the heavenly scent alone,” Sachin agreed, before his voice went apologetic. “Uh…Lune? Thanks for ditching the festival this year. I know it means a lot to you.”

“I wasn’t about to let you sleep aboard without checking for damage below and beneath.”

Lune meant it. The festival be damned. There was no way he was going to risk Sachin’s life, even if his compass sparked at the festivals and lead him on a wild goose chase.

A chase that came up empty each year. In the last few years, he’d figured it was standing on temple grounds that triggered the magical malfunction.

Sachin nodded before leaping over the boat railing to the dock.

The initial downward momentum of Sachin’s push-off dipped the Jade Raptor a few inches into the water, causing the boat to bounce drunkenly.

Lune clutched at the hull. The impact of Sachin’s boots hitting the dock made the structure tremble slightly as the cargo handler headed for the tavern for takeout .

Sputtering waves of water out of his mouth and wiping his eyes, Lune wondered at the sanity of befriending and hiring a half-gargoyle to toss luggage and manage difficult passengers. Especially when Sachin had been rejected by every other captain in the harbor.

When night fell, a gargoyle’s skin naturally toughened up into a rocky texture and they tended to weigh more to reflect their earthen elemental ties.

In that form, they took up a portion of a ship’s maximum weight ratios that were meant for cargo or passengers.

Gargoyles weren’t buoyant in that form either, and that posed a fatal danger.

But Jade Raptor was strong and welcomed Sachin well.

Lune swam for the dock ladder. In doing so, the current went warm.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed he wasn’t wading through someone’s urine.

The harbormaster protected the cleanliness of her domain with an iron fist through her elemental powers.

She also had her hands full keeping order among the pushy tourists who traveled through for the festival.

Grossed out, Lune heaved himself out of the water. He’d have to take a hot bath and maybe burn his clothes before retiring for the evening. But when the heat intensified and pressed against his hip bone, he realized.

Lune gasped. The warmth hadn’t been some drunkard’s piss; it emanated from his compass, and was getting hotter—but not enough to burn him.

It surrounded him in a bright greenish glow.

Gulping and attempting to breathe through both his mouth and gills in his elated shock, Lune steadied himself against the ladder’s rungs.

The summons. His Intended. It was time.

Teary-eyed, Lune unhooked the compass from his belt and held it against his heart. He didn’t know very much about his magical gift. Just the whispered rumors he’d eagerly absorbed over the years. That it would bring him joy and happiness. That he would find someone who understood him.

His wait was over.

His joy soon plummeted, and he clutched the compass tighter as the light quickly began to fade and die out. Until he was left with an inert compass, just like the one he woke up with this morning.

An urgency settled into his bones. As the light waned, the sense of his Intended also waned. A sick feeling in Lune’s stomach rose. What was happening? Was his Intended hurt? Or sick?

The thirteen tiny green jewels surrounding the compass’s bevel suddenly lit up. But he sensed it was not something to praise. It felt more like a warning.

One of the lights suddenly went dark.

An ominous, timed warning.

Further in a panic now, Lune hauled himself up the ladder and ran for home. Because if he needed time, then there was only one person he could trust to help.