If the ice keeping the Calavera at bay unfroze before they returned, it was all for nothing.
Tor thought about the Night Witch’s visions and what the assassin had said. The spectrals were planning something… Is that what the Night Witch was so afraid of? What she had warned him about?
He remembered that Vesper had said something about them on the first day of their journey. He took her aside.
“What do you know about spectrals?”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Why?”
Tor ground his back teeth together, wishing she could just give him a simple response. “Swordscale bans writing about violent topics, yet you know about them. How?”
Vesper stilled. She was silent for a moment, before saying, “Why do you ask so many questions, Tor?”
He saw Melda out of the corner of his eye walking toward them. Tor didn’t want to worry Melda or Engle about the Night Witch’s visions, not yet. Not when they had so much else to consider.
“Never mind,” he said and joined his friends.
Melda seemed in a better mood than usual, which Tor imagined had everything to do with the assassin’s mention of the giantesses. “Are you ready?” she asked Tor.
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“To chart a final course.” She called everyone to the helm.
Engle pulled the compass from his pocket and handed it to Vesper. She closed her eyes, and, as per Captain Forecastle’s instructions, thought very hard about the pearl.
“A drop of blood would help,” Captain Forecastle said quietly.
Without hesitating, Vesper made her dagger charm large enough that Tor could see its blade and pierced her hand with it.
Blood dripped onto the compass’ glass.
They held their breath.
The needle whirled around and around, fast as lightning, as if invigorated by the blood. It swung this way and that, in endless sweeps, before finally settling on a direction. North.
Tor commanded the ship to follow.
Finally, finally, they were headed for the pearl.
Captain Forecastle yawned and murmured about needing a good night of sleep. Before he could leave, Melda stopped him. “What else did you hear about the pearl in Perla?”
He shrugged. “Just that those three characters were looking for it there. The captain, the spectral, the silver-haired one, like her,” he motioned toward Vesper.
“That’s all?” Tor asked.
“There was something else about the Calavera captain… He was sniffing around for an enchantment…” Captain Forecastle gave him a pointed look. “Something to melt ice.”
Tor stiffened. “Did he find it?”
“Couldn’t tell ye.”
Melda began walking in small circles, head down. “This is good. If they had already found the pearl, they wouldn’t be looking for a melting enchantment. They could simply unfreeze the sea themselves.” She brightened. “We still have time then, we could still find the pearl before them.”
Tor hoped she was right.
They didn’t know where they were going—so they didn’t know when they would get there. All they could do was go forward, blindly following the compass.
And hope time wouldn’t run out.
Tor ran into Vesper in the hallway before bed. “Has it healed?” he asked. The cut she’d made in her palm had looked deep, and Melda had concocted a simple elixir to soothe it. Vesper had shrunk the compass and now wore it on her charm bracelet.
She looked at him, dazed, like she might not have heard him.
He lowered his head. “Are you all right, Vesper?”
She blinked. “Um—yes. Of course. Just…tired.” She gave him a curt nod, then retreated to her room.
Tor noticed her green eyes had been slightly swollen and pink at the creases.
Like she had been crying.
The next day, Tor woke up shivering beneath his sheets. They had kept traveling north throughout the night, and the weather had turned, quite suddenly. He asked the boat for thicker clothing and piled the layers on before leaving his cabin.
Melda was on the deck, wrapped in her blanket, sitting beside Engle. Tor snapped his fingers and a mountain of jackets appeared, along with a pile of wool blankets, socks, and a table lined with warm drinks—hot chocolate, canela tea, and hot rum for Forecastle.
The pirate merrily tilted his hat at Tor, then went straight for the drink.
“You know, lots of really interesting fish live in temperatures like this,” Engle said after taking a jacket and hot chocolate, which he finished in an impressive gulp. He peeked over the side of the ship, and Tor wondered how far into the sea he could see. “Ombré haddocks, longtail connies, lemon sea snails, giant salmon, ribbon-tailed flounders.”
Melda quickly turned to face him, intrigued. “And how would you go about catching a giant salmon?”
Engle frowned. “Those types are very sensitive to movement, so if I wanted to catch one, I would make lots of motion in the water to try to attract it.”
Melda beamed at him. “Great. Catch one.” She undid the bright golden ribbon from her hair and handed it to him. “And use this as bait.”
Engle frowned, then shrugged.
Tor looked at Melda as she walked over to him. “You really think it’s out here?” He knew exactly what she was hoping Engle might catch, only because he had finished the Book of Seas in the last few days. Engle clearly hadn’t.
She shrugged. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” She took a hot chocolate, topped it with a fat dollop of cream Tor had thought up, and sat down to watch Engle make a plan. “If anyone can catch a mythical sea creature, it’s him.”
Vesper joined them on the deck twenty minutes later, sitting next to Captain Forecastle, who was brushing through his beard with his miniature sword. The waters had gotten so cold she couldn’t swim in them, and she stared down at the sea longingly.
“We’re waiting, boy,” Captain Forecastle said to Engle from across the deck, rum sloshing around in his mug.
Tor grinned. “I hope you don’t plan on using yourself as bait instead of the ribbon.”
Engle stuck
