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R HAIF KEPT TO the beach as Kalder stalked back and forth across the shallow waters. His large paws splashed heavily with each pace, as if demonstrating the vargr’s frustration. The beast’s gaze remained fixed out to sea, waiting for his master’s return.

Rhaif maintained this vigil, too, leaning on his crutch. He remembered Shiya wading into the sea off that sandbar island. His heart had ached to see her go back then, as it did yesterday when she left with the others. He had expected them to be back before now.

He stared up at the brighter glow of mists overhead. It was midmorning already. Nearly an entire day had passed.

Where are you all?

Loud hammering and louder curses echoed to his right, coming from the bulk of the Sparrowhawk. After the others had left for Kefta, Darant and his remaining crew had set about repairing the swyftship. They were aided by a score of Noorish locals whom Daal’s mother had rousted up to assist them. Fleets of skiffs flowed in an endless procession, traveling from the wreck of the Fyredragon to this beach and back again. High stacks of wood and hillocks of old gasbag fabric dotted the sands around the bow of the Sparrowhawk.

Rhaif had gone himself to see Rega sy Noor’s old ship. He was astounded to find the exploratory barge still intact. When he had arrived, men and women were scouring over it, like ants on a dead moth. Darant oversaw it all, inspecting sections, calling out orders, while Glace coordinated the shipments as they arrived at the beach. Brayl used her sailraft to ferry heavier supplies.

Jace and Krysh were there, too, encamped on the beach circling the cavern lake, doing arcane tests on barrels of green oil.

All in all, the amount of progress made in such a short time was impressive. Then again, pirates—as a necessity of their trade—were likely accustomed to swift repairs under daunting conditions.

From the busy work site, two figures crossed the sand toward him. The smaller of the two dashed forward, legs flying, arms waving.

“Slan wee, Henna!” Floraan called after her daughter, clearly scolding her haste.

Rhaif smiled at the girl’s enthusiasm, but it wasn’t to reach him.

“Kalder!” Henna hollered. “Nee vish’na, kee norn vargr!”

She shot past him, nearly knocking Rhaif’s crutch out from under him. She splashed through the waves and leaped high at Kalder, hugging her arms around the vargr’s shaggy neck.

The beast lifted his head, pulling a giggling Henna off her feet. Kalder then turned and carried her to shore. He shook the freeloader off, dropping Henna on her backside, which only triggered more laughter. When Henna tried to get up, Kalder nosed her back down with a warning growl, as if reprimanding a pup.

Floraan joined them. “Sorry,” she said in Noorish to Rhaif. “She’s been pestering me all morning to come see Kalder. In apology for our intrusion, I brought this.”

She lifted a basket, stuffed with bread, cheese, and, most welcome of all, a stone bottle of sweet wine.

He took the fare in hand. “Thank you.”

Floraan inhaled a deep breath, staring out to sea. The lines of worry on her face were easy to read.

“Shouldn’t they have returned by now?” he asked.

The woman shrugged, glancing at him with a small smile. “Depends on when they ran out of ale… and how long it takes them to get their legs back under them afterward.”

Henna chattered animatedly at Kalder, which made her mother’s smile broaden. He lifted a brow for a translation.

Floraan shook her head, clearly amused. “She’s telling him that she never got a chance to ride Bashaliia, but that we have saddles that might fit Kalder.”

Rhaif grinned. “Oh, I’d love her to try. Be worth aggravating Kalder just to see Graylin’s expression when he gets back.”

Floraan pointed out to sea. “Unfortunately, it looks like Henna won’t have the time to saddle Kalder.”

Rhaif turned to see a group of boats appear out of the mists. It was the returning funeral fleet—though it looked smaller than when it had departed these shores. Clearly, some of the mourners hadn’t regained their sea legs yet.

The Reef Farer’s large barge led the boats, aglow with firepots and lanterns. Shiya’s bronze form, reflecting all that flickering light, was easy to spot.

Rhaif sighed loudly. The knot of tension in his chest finally relaxed.

“If we hurry back to town,” Floraan noted, “we should reach the docks about the same time as they do.”

Rhaif appreciated this plan. “You are a wise woman.”

He shifted on his crutch to head in that direction. Floraan retrieved the food basket to unburden him, but before she could turn away, he plucked out the bottle of sweet wine.

He hiked it high. “To celebrate their return.”

“Ah, I see you are just as wise as me.”

Floraan called over in Panthean for Henna to join them. Her daughter balked, until Rhaif heard Daal’s name mentioned. Henna’s eyes widened, and she leaped to her feet, excited to greet her returning brother.

Rhaif whistled sharply to Kalder and used a hand signal that Graylin had taught him. But the vargr needed no encouragement to follow. Kalder had also noted the approach of the boats. The beast had stuck his nose high, testing the sea breeze, confirming what his heart had hoped. His tail gave one wag, then Kalder swung around and headed down the beach.

“Wait for us!” Rhaif called, and whistled again. He feared how a charging vargr would be welcomed at the Iskar docks.

They all hurried after Kalder.

As they ran—and in his case, hobbled —Rhaif caught a glimpse of movement in the mists overhead. He slowed, squinting, allowing the others to leave him farther behind. He shaded his eyes against the glare of the shining fog.

For a breath, he thought he spotted a dark shadow sweeping high above, swirling through the mists, but it never revealed itself. He swore another two followed in its wake. His heart clenched in his throat, remembering the description of the attack by the raash’ke. But as he blinked, the shadows dissolved away—if they were there at all. He rubbed his eyes and kept staring. The mists stirred and glowed, but no other shadows revealed themselves.

A burst of laughter from Henna got him moving faster again. He periodically glanced high, searching, but still saw nothing. He slowly released his breath.

Maybe it was a trick of light in this strange place. Or maybe a small patrol of raash’ke had swept in, drawn by the noisy commotion—then fled back home.

Still, Rhaif could not shake a feeling of foreboding.

He glanced behind him, to where the hammering and shouting continued.

Best get that bird into the air as soon as possible.