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T he morning mist clung to the air, dampening everything it touched as birds and insects picked up their chorus where the rain had silenced them. Vivienne sat up, momentarily forgetting she still wore the commander's jacket. Across camp, Owen and Captain Garrett were already at work while Cirrus and Lewis remained asleep. She crossed the clearing, the jacket slung over her arm.

"Morning, Vivienne," the captain greeted with a grin. "What can we do ya for?"

"I'm returning this," she said, glancing at Owen. "The commander was kind enough to lend it to me."

Thorne dipped his chin slightly, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips.

"That’s our commander," Captain Garrett said, slapping Owen’s back hard enough to make him sway. "Always looking out for everyone."

Florence came jogging toward them, her tight curls bouncing. "Captain, commander," there’s smoke west of us. Campfires, several miles out."

Garrett’s expression darkened. "When did you first see it?"

"Jackie spotted it last night, but the rain made it hard to confirm," Florence said, her accent rolling. "This morning, it's obvious."

Vivienne frowned. "How could anything burn in a monsoon?"

Thorne’s fist hit the makeshift table. "The bastard has everburn," he growled.

The captain turned to Florence, who gave a grim nod.

Vivienne’s stomach tightened. Enyo and the Thanatos were here . She’d known they were heading for Verdance, but hearing the confirmation still sent a chill down her spine.

Garrett adjusted his hat. "We’ll need to rethink the exploratory group. Ms. Solandis, Miss Banner, if you’ll excuse us."

Florence dipped her chin and strode toward the breakfast area, Vivienne hurried to keep up.

"Florence," Vivienne called out. "What’s everburn?"

The gunner paused, stepping close. "Keep your voice down, Banner. No need to work the crew into a panic."

Vivienne nodded, whispering. "What is it?"

Florence shifted the tobacco in her cheek. "It’s a rare blend, known to only a few chemists. It burns in any condition, doesn’t need wood, and won’t go out unless you have cinderbind or wait for it to incinerate everything except stone, bone, metal, or water."

A shudder ran through Vivienne as she recalled the nightmare of her parents’ ship burning despite the rain. Did the Nereid carry everburn? "Why would anyone travel with something so dangerous?"

Florence shrugged, spitting onto the ground. "Useful in wet or cold places. But you only need a drop." She tugged on a chain around her neck, revealing two tiny bottles—one filled with a swirling bronze-red liquid, the other with shimmering silver powder. "This is all I’m willing to carry, and I always keep the antidote right next to it."

Vivienne instinctively stepped back. She walks around with a bomb around her neck?

Florence smirked at her reaction. "Eat something, Banner. You’re looking paler than usual."

Vivienne sighed in agreement as they continued walking. "This might be rude to ask, but?—"

Florence raised a brow. "I get the sense that’s never stopped you before."

"Fair enough," Vivienne gave a small nod. "I can’t place your accent. Where are you from?"

“That’s it?” Florence breathed a chuckle. "Tecendria. Grew up outside Ilvaros."

Vivienne mapped the northern continent in her mind. "Did you speak Castavellan?"

"Marinel. A coastal dialect from Ilvaros. Sailors and working-class folks."

No wonder Vivienne only caught every other word. She had only trained in noble and scholarly Castavellan. "How’d you end up in Fendwyr?"

Florence’s narrow jaw locked. "There was an… incident on my last ship."

A frown tugged Vivienne’s face. "What kind of incident?"

"One of the officers was a disgusting excuse for a man. The bastard had been harassing the women on the ship. One of my gals came to me in tears. She said he’d tried to force himself on her and… I snapped." Florence’s voice was flat, but fire lit her hazel eyes. "He went out alone one day. I fired a flaming arrow at his rowboat, which I’d already packed with gunpowder and a drop of everburn."

Vivienne swallowed hard. She underlined her mental note about never getting on Florence’s bad side.

"After the explosions, there wasn’t enough left of him to bury," Florence continued. "The crew refused to snitch, but I was relieved of duty anyway. The same week, Captain Garrett came through Ilvaros. He heard about my… antics and hired me. I’ve been with the Zephyrus ever since."

She’s terrifying. It’s magnificent.

Vivienne stumbled through a phrase in Castavellan. " E buen viento a concherte mais da yuste. "

Florence cocked her head, then grinned. "Muito buen. Nice to learn more about you too, Banner."

It was the first time Vivienne had seen her smile, and honestly, she was okay for it to be the last. Florence was unapologetically herself and lived according to her terms. Vivienne envied her for those skills she’d yet to develop.

With a flick of her wrist, Florence produced a quillon dagger as if from thin air. "Take this, Banner. Can’t be unarmed on the islands."

Vivienne slid it from the sheath, marveling at the slender, razor-sharp blade, the black leather-wrapped hilt, the engraved cross-guards, and the deep green gemstone set in the quillon.

"It’s beautiful," she whispered. "But I don’t know how to use?—"

"Sharp end goes in your enemy. End of lesson," Florence waved a hand.

Vivienne smiled. "Thank you."

"That’s enough girl talk for the next few months," Florence muttered.

"Unless we’re assigned to the same exploratory group."

Florence groaned. "Dejialo repuesar . "

Let it rest. Not one of my strong suits, Vivienne admitted.

* * *

The group pressed deeper into the rainforest, the thick canopy muting the sun’s light as they moved toward the ruins. Vivienne walked near the front, Cirrus beside her with the map she had added to during their scouting excursion. Lewis trailed behind, keeping spirits high with quips that sent nearby sailors into bursts of laughter. The crunch of leaves and the steady rhythm of boots on damp earth marked their progress.

Captain Garrett led with a sharp gaze, scanning the trees and undergrowth for any sign of danger. Dr. Mercer walked near the center of the line, ready to tend to any injuries. Most officers had remained at camp with the larger part of the crew, guarding supplies and continuing foraging efforts.

At the rear, Commander Thorne maintained a watchful presence, his voice carrying above the jungle’s hum. “Keep a tight formation! No one wanders off.”

Vivienne glanced at Cirrus, who moved through the terrain with effortless confidence. He turned to speak, but Lewis slid forward, cutting between them and forcing Cirrus behind.

Lewis shot her a sidelong glance, curiosity shining in his golden-brown eyes. “Are you sure these ruins exist?” he teased.

“They exist,” Vivienne said without hesitation, casting him a quick glare. “The real question is whether they’re what we’re looking for.”

“What exactly are we looking for?” Lewis asked.

Vivienne exhaled, brushing damp hair off her neck. “Answers about the island and the tribute we need to find. No one knows what it is or where to start.”

Lewis wiped sweat from his brow. “And if we find nothing?”

She smirked. “Then we’ve still uncovered something no one else has.”

Cirrus seized his moment, gripping Lewis’ shoulder and tugging him back. “Map reader stays in front, Blume,” he said, impatience simmering.

Lewis muttered something under his breath. Vivienne didn’t catch it, but by the sharp scowl on Cirrus’ face, he had.

* * *

The group had been hiking for hours when Captain Garrett called for a break. Dr. Mercer relayed the order, and Commander Thorne followed with sharp instructions: rest, hydrate, and eat only approved rations. Dr. Mercer tended to twisted ankles, scratches, and swollen insect bites while Lewis inspected food supplies. Meanwhile, Captain Garrett and Cirrus scouted ahead.

Vivienne sank onto a massive tree root, sighing as the ache in her legs caught up with her. As she rummaged through her pack for water and a snack, her fingers brushed the worn leather of her mother’s journal. With most of the crew preoccupied, she flipped to the sketches of Verdance, tracing the symbols around the ruins. A temple? A city? She leaned closer, trying to decipher their meaning.

"Miss Banner," Thorne’s silky baritone carved through her focus.

She snapped the journal shut. "Commander," she greeted, feigning nonchalance. "Just jotting some notes."

A subdued smile tugged at his lips. "You can take the Antiquary out of the library, but you can’t take the library out of the Antiquary."

"Guess not," she acknowledged with a bounce of her shoulders.

"May I?" He gestured to the space beside her, and she nodded. Resting his forearms on his knees, he spoke in a hushed tone. "I want to apologize for last night. I never meant to put you in an awkward position with the crew."

Vivienne frowned. "If anyone made it awkward, it was Cirrus and Lewis."

"Protective?" The commander suggested.

"Territorial," she corrected with a smirk.

Thorne exhaled a chuckle. "Let the record show you said that not me."

She shot him a mock salute as Cirrus emerged from the trees, his voice deceptively cordial. "Ah, commander. Nice to see you remembered a shirt this morning."

Commander Thorne stood, eyes gleaming with challenge. "Pity you forgot your manners and your rank."

Cirrus paled, opening his mouth before snapping it shut.

Owen tilted his head. "I’ll take that as a sign you've remembered both." His expression warmed as he turned to Vivienne. "Miss Banner, let me know if you need my jacket again." His voice dropped slightly. "Or anything else." Then he strode off toward the captain.

Cirrus bristled. "Spending a lot of time with Commander Thorne-in-my-side, aren’t you?"

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "What does it matter to you?"

His nostrils flared as he glanced around, then grabbed her wrist, leading her deeper into the trees. Once they were alone, he faced her, eyes burning. "Are you trying to make me jealous? I made my intentions about us clear yesterday, and now you're throwing it in my face. How am I supposed to react?"

Vivienne yanked her arm free. "You can’t get upset every time I talk to another man. We’re on a crew of mostly men. It’s going to happen."

"But you’re not wearing their clothes. Or wandering through the rainforest with them shirtless, " he lashed back.

"Nothing happened!" she snapped, exasperated. "The rain made my blouse see-through. He gave me his jacket so I wouldn’t put on a show for the entire camp!"

Cirrus hesitated, processing. "That was... decent of him," he admitted grudgingly. "But why was he half-naked?—?"

"You’d have to ask him , " she seethed, throwing up her hands. "You kissed me once after three years and now you think I belong to you? We’re not together anymore?—"

"And whose fault is that?" Cirrus cut in, his voice barbed.

Vivienne clenched her jaw. "That’s not fair."

They stood in painful silence before Cirrus finally spoke, his tone raw.

"When I said I’ve always been clear about what I wanted, about wanting you, I meant it. You’re not a belonging. You’re the best thing I ever lost. And until you tell me you feel nothing for me, I will never stop trying to win you back."

Her breath caught. The anger between them dissolved into something more fragile. She opened her mouth to respond, but Lewis’ voice echoed through the rainforest, calling her name.

Vivienne bit her lip. "We should get back." She turned toward the crew, ignoring the pain in Cirrus’ eyes as she walked away.