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“Don’t you see the sigil on my prow?
Clearly, it’s an agonbloom jellyfish.” She waited for the Hyndi men
to recognize and fear the symbol of her power, but their faces
remained irritatingly blank. “Of Clan Agonbloom, First Clan of the
Southern Sea Clans? Gods above and below…never mind.” She sighed
and tipped her head in condescension. “It means I’m not even from
around here, and therefore have no interest in stealing from you. I
wouldn’t know where to fence the goods, and I certainly don’t want
to annoy the local Clans. I’m just here for—”
    “Rhona!” Geret called, jogging down the
unfinished dock with a slender, black-braided man she recognized as
Salvor Thelios, Geret’s noble rival, and another with shaggy brown
hair whom she didn’t know. They each carried a large
pack.
    “For him,” finished Rhona, a happy grin
widening across her face. She gazed down at Geret and his
companions as they pushed through the mass of militiamen and
stopped next to the harbormaster.
    “We’re ready,” Geret told her.
    “Ah, shiny. Ladder!” she ordered, turning her
head. A heavily knotted rope came flying toward Geret. He dropped
his pack and caught it awkwardly, then looked up toward the
ship.
    Two other Clansfolk were holding the other
end, waiting to haul Geret aboard. Geret waved a greeting to the
one with the brown wavy hair.
    Ruel Menihuna, Rhona’s cousin, jauntily
returned his salute and called out, “Jump, Geret!”
    Salvor said, “I should go over first,” but
Geret had already picked up his pack and slung it over his
shoulder.
    “Best hurry then,” Geret said, gripping the
rope and leaping off the dock. The Clansmen pulled hard, running
across the deck, and Geret flew through the air, landing against
the hull with his toes. The pirates pulled him up to the deck, and
he paused at the rail. “Permission to come aboard?” he asked,
grinning down at Rhona.
    “Granted, good prince,” she responded, and he
leaped down to the deck beside her.
    “If they don’t throw that rope back for me
right now,” she heard Salvor growl.
    “They surely won’t leave without your friend
Meena,” the brown-haired man said.
    “By the hearth, you men are mad,” the
harbormaster interjected. “Sailing off with Sea Pirates of your own
free will! I’ve never seen such an eager death wish in all my days.
And you will be sailing off with them,” the man added,
glaring.
    “We understand, Harbormaster,” the man
replied, noting the man’s concern. “We’ll not darken your shores
again.”
    The man grunted. “One way or the other,” he
said ominously.
    Ruel tossed the rope back to Salvor, and then
to the third man. Once they were aboard and another sailor had seen
to their packs, Salvor asked, “Now we wait?”
    “Hopefully not for long,” Rhona grumped,
glaring over her shoulder at the harbormaster, who had taken to
loudly insulting the Clans. “That man will burst a vein and they’ll
find a way to blame us, as usual. The other ships can only keep the
sentries busy for so long.” She turned to the unfamiliar man with
an air of distraction. “Who’re you, then?”
    Geret answered her. “We call him Gryme. His
real name could get him killed here in Salience.”
    “Good thing we’re leaving it, then,” she
replied, giving Gryme a saucy smile. His return smile was brief and
distracted.
    Geret frowned and stepped closer to Rhona, so
he could lower his voice and still be heard over the harbormaster’s
insults. “How many ships did you bring with you, Rhona?”
    “Seven.”
    “You’ve challenged your mother already?” he
asked, blinking in surprise.
    The young captain threw back her head and
laughed, her coppery braids dancing against her cheeks. “No, my
mother is still the Prime of Clan Agonbloom, free and fair. I just
couldn’t help but feel that I hadn’t completed my Age Quest
properly, even though you released Ruel and I from trailing after
you on those deeps-damned