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“Witches, mystery fevers, those are fairy tales—”

“I don’t think so,” I say, flipping the open book so Gretta can look at Magda’s doodles.

"This scribbled map matches Greenhorn’s description of his home.

I think Branko’s witchy sister, Chevelle, is the witch who healed Chub.

That’s proof everything in these books is true…

and no pirate spent his day sewing like a circle of ninnies. ”

“Well, Branko’s sister was a witch, so what? I’ve got proof Betts’s sister is a Kraken,” she says with a smirk twisting her stubbled lips.

“Sail ho! Kraken gobshites on the port bow!”

“You’ve got to ask my arse!” I jump off the hammock and flip onto the floor. I’m scrambling to put on my blazer and climb out of the webbing, but I’m stuck. Gretta and I waste valuable seconds untangling me from the threads I now know come from Catalina’s wrists.

On deck, the anchor’s dropped and the rigging is vacant.

So many crew members are pressed along the portside railing that I’m surprised the boat isn’t capsized.

We run across the main deck as the crew cheers something happening on the opposite side.

Gretta wiggles in front of Gunter, the lion-faced man, and drags me with her.

The railing presses into my belly, but that’s not what takes my breath away.

Captain Teeth—for who else would have giant navy-blue tentacles and flowing blonde hair—wrestles Captain Betts in the water.

As he dunks her, a second Betts pops up behind him—this one with long red tentacles that match her hair.

The second Betts shimmies her dairy at the crowd, earning her a dunking from Teeth.

I’m captivated and confused beyond belief.

My body doesn’t know how to respond to the playful innocence surrounding my most frequent fantasies.

Ever since I caught a glimpse down her blouse, I’ve fought the allure of Betts’s figure.

Not even Magda’s stories could pry my attention away for long.

I’m shoved to the side as Chub hurls himself over the railing.

His shirt flops over my head until I bat it away.

Sweaty and gross. He lands on Teeth and the two wrestle like children.

The addition of Chub forces Teeth to let go of the women.

I swallow my tongue when both copies breach the surface.

A dressed Captain Betts shields the naked dairy of her Kraken sister.

They are identical…but how? How can she have a twin sister of a different species?

“That’s Sabrina—dubbed Sabs by Teeth—yes, she’s Bettina’s sister,” Catalina says as Gunter allows her to stand between Gretta and me. “Everyone says she’s the fun sister, but she’s too wild for me.”

As if on cue, Sabs pulls free of Betts again to flash the crowd. When they cheer, she does a mock bow…until Betts dunks her.

“Told ya,” Gretta says, reaching for my sleeve around Catalina. “It’s the former Captain Teeth with all his tentacles. Isn’t he a dream? Look at those eyes…”

“…and his missing fingers,” grouses Gunter. Yeah, I’m sure the jealousy in his voice echoes through the heads of every man aboard; it certainly does through mine. We’d all kill to be Teeth for one reason or another.

“Why read about him when you can talk to him? I’m sure they will come aboard—oooh, do you think it’s about the prize? Did he spy on the other boat?”

“I don’t doubt it,” I say with stars in my eyes.

Blimey, what I wouldn’t do for a chance to pick Teeth’s brain about what I read in Magda’s journals?

! To learn the truth about what transpired when the ship had a fun atmosphere…

before Bettina the Kraken became Captain Betts.

Now that I’ve seen the sisters together, there’s no doubt in my mind that Betts was born a carefree kraken.

“Catalina, was Betts a Kraken when you met her?”

She tears her eyes away from her husband’s frolicking in the waves to glare at me. “I’ve never seen Betts with tentacles. You’d do yourself a mischief if you go poking into her past. You spread your tales, but that’s one she wishes to keep to herself.”

“Why? Why shouldn’t I pry into her past when I’m judged for mine every damn day? For all I know, she’s trying to kill me or have me killed by accident—and I deserve the reason, which is buried in her past, not mine.”

“You’re walking a fine rope, matey,” Catalina says, shaking her head. “Your line of thought is the fastest way to get keelhauled. If you value the skin on your nose, I’d keep it clean. Speaking of clean, do you need more oregano oil?”

“No, the infection cleared up like the skies after a storm, and thanks for the warning,” I grumble while collecting glares from the people in earshot.

There’s no way I’m letting this opportunity slip through my fingers.

If Teeth and Sabrina board, I’m spending time with them, even if I must insert myself in their meetings to do it.

Too many questions burn in my heart to be ignored.

Not when my life depends on them.