The Albatross docked at Rainbow Harbor, where true to the name a rainbow cut through the sky in its colorful arc overhead. The marina was tucked into a peninsula and long stretch of white-sand beach, where the big city and the capitol of the Albionese colony had been built, cutting into the jungle-covered foothills. Still, the tall trees with the brightly-colored fruits like jewels and the flower-filled hedges grew up between the cobbled stones. The land would not be tamed to an Albionese will so easily. 

“This is the biggest of the islands, and so when Albion claimed the archipelago, they decided to build their port here,” Kas explained as they disembarked. “They call it the Rainbow Harbor because there’s nearly always one in the sky here.”

He then frowned, looking up at the puffy white clouds starting to roll in. “Probably because it’s half-raining all the time.”

He then looked to Elodie. “We’ll have to get you a hat, then.”

“What about you?” She turned to where Ventus lingered behind her, hands in the pockets of his coat. Elodie insisted he come with her, despite the distrust in Captain Jennings’ eyes. She believed him when he told her that he’d be by her side. Hopefully soon enough, the Captain would see that too. 

“I don’t mind getting wet.” He shrugged.

“I hate how it makes my hair frizz,” Kas declared as he adjusted his. “Then again, this is supposed to be a rather quick stop.”

A skeleton crew of the uninterested sailors would be left to watch over the ship in the harbor and keep an eye out for those who were disembarking. Some had tasks from the Captain to restock the necessities—and if they were efficient, they would have some time for leisure. 

But as for Elodie and the rest, their time was to be occupied by the search for Captain Jennings’ informant. 

“He doesn’t live in Rainbow Harbor,” she’d told them in the privacy of her office. “It’s a ways out, on one of the floating islands off of this one. It will be a hike, but it’s worth it for the kind of intel he might be able to provide, as he was with Vance when he found the treasure.”

Now, Captain Jennings blazed the path ahead, leading their small group through the city. 

It wasn’t so different from Port Augustine, Elodie supposed as they passed the great marketplace by the marina. If it weren't for the plant life, the rainbow in the sky, and the looming jungle and volcano overhead, she might have mistaken it for home. At least, initially. 

The people of course looked different. Among the Albionese settlers were the people of the Windward Isles, the Windward Voyagers, with their brightly-colored clothes, curly dark hair, and sun-tanned skin. 

But beyond that even, beyond the places where the Albionese and Voyager cultures had collided, were the Manoans. 

Elodie had seen a few of them before. Nearly everyone had seen a Manoan from time to time. After all, the remnants of their civilization were everywhere, in the coins that they used, the ruins all across the Sea of Gales, and the very crystals that they used to make their ships skip across the waves and soar into the air. It was said once, before Albion and Cartagena had kings, that the Manoans had once ruled over the entire Sea of Gales. 

So it was only natural to see them from time to time. 

But Elodie had not seen so many of them in one place before. 

On street corners and alleyways, by flags of deep indigo blue, the bright turquoise-tinted green of their crystals, and burnished gold, they gathered. They stood out with their white hair, their light eyes and light brown freckled skin, and their traditional clothes with shimmering layers of gossamer in jeweled tones, pinned in place by extravagant jewelry. 

The Manoans watched the passerby with suspicion in their eyes, speaking only in whispers. 

Something about it made Elodie feel uneasy—but sad, also. 

What would it be like, to know that your people had once ruled over the entire world, or so it seemed—only to find yourself scattered across that world, seeking what had fallen into antiquity?

She wasn’t so sure. Perhaps someday the people of Albion would suffer a similar fate. She’d read her history, more of an idle curiosity than a devoted study that was expected of gentlemen. But even she noticed in the records and books how empires came and went, much like the tides. Manoa, Thule, Aubrais, they’d all had their days in the sun. It was said that even Cartagena was beginning to fade in their power over the Sea of Gales. 

Someday the sun would set on the Albionese Empire. But Elodie doubted she would be alive to see it. 

True to the Captain’s warning, the informant lived a long way from the Rainbow Harbor. The sun had changed from east to west in the time that it took them to traverse the mountain trails to the place where the wooden bridge met the mountain, anchoring the floating island to the sea-bound rock. 

A smaller village was built into the floating isle, with smaller wooden cottages as the main buildings and dirt roads, similar to what Elodie had seen in Libertalia. There were more of the Windward Voyagers going about their business here—but there were also more shady-looking characters on the porches or hanging around the street corners. 

Furthermore, there were no Manoans here. 

Captain Jennings led them to a cottage at the very edge of the floating island, with part of the back porch built off the end with wooden supports. Sitting on the porch was the very image of a washed-up mariner, nursing a green-tinted bottle. 

His pale blue eyes lit up, however, at the Captain’s approach. 

“Ah, Jennings, how good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you as well, Baptiste.” Captain Jennings smiled as she came to a stop. “Retirement’s suiting you well.”

“And privateering’s done the same to you.” He grinned, revealing several missing teeth. “You’ve come a long way. I remember when you were Elias, the cabin boy.”

He then sighed. “But I’m guessing you’re not here to share the memories over a bottle of rum, eh?”

Baptiste pointed the open end of his glass bottle at Elodie. “You look just like your mother, lass.”

“Thank you.”

“Such a beautiful woman, your mother.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Everyone could understand why your father went to such lengths to get her. Could have had any woman he wanted in the Sea of Gales, but he went for the married woman with a husband who—“

He trailed off and made to stand up from the old wooden rocking chair. “Never mind that. It’s too bad your father can’t see you now, sailing with one of the greatest pirates I ever knew. He’d be proud.”

Elodie hummed noncommittally. Somehow, she doubted that. Even if she did like the idea. 

“Come on, we’ll talk inside,” Baptiste continued, blithely ignorant of Elodie’s response. “And we’ll see if I can tell you what you want to know.”

The inside of the cottage was mostly dark and grimy, with rum bottles scattered around the place. The disembarking party took the rickety wooden seats around the makeshift table made from a barrel and a couple planks of wood that Baptiste insisted was a table. He continued to nurse his bottle, offering nothing to the guests.

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Captain Jennings clasped her hands together on the table and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors by now.”

“Rumors about what?” Baptiste raised an eyebrow. “Seems like half the Sea has gone mad. The Black-Sail Fleet’s supposed to be gathering up forces, there’s rumors about treasure and Keira Fleetwood’s involved, of course, and that’s not even mentioning whatever’s going on with the Manoans.”

“With that Manoans?” Kas frowned. 

“You should’ve seen them all around town with those banners.” Baptiste frowned and took a swig. “Something’s not right with them, you can see it in their eyes.”

“We’re not here about the Manoans.” Captain Jennings’ voice was crisp and clear, leaving no room for nonsense or vying from where she was steering the conversation next. “Keira Fleetwood has gone missing, and the Black-Sail Fleet will do anything to find her.”

“Including threatening her daughter, eh?” Baptiste sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I’d heard rumors about a raid on Port Augustine. Nearly forgot that Fleetwood settled down there. Such a shame, what happened to your father lass. He was the second-best pirate I knew, you know. Certainly the best captain I ever sailed under. A brilliant man, he was. Well, some said he was mad, but—“

“You were a part of his crew, back when he found the treasure the Black-Sail Fleet’s looking for then, yes?” Captain Jennings folded her arms over her chest and leaned back. “You’ll have to forgive me, Baptiste. I don’t believe I’d joined on yet at that time.”

“No, you hadn’t.” Something dangerous gleamed in Baptiste’s eye, like a sword catching sunlight. A reminder for how even if this pirate was in retirement, he was still a pirate. “Keira hadn’t joined on either yet. Of course, that was the beginning of when some started to believe old Captain Vance was a madman.”

Elodie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We’d found an old Manoan map, he’d stolen it from some well-to-do back in the Old Country, and we’d been tracking down the treasure for months, nearly.” He took a swig again. “We’d found some island that wasn’t marked on any of the other maps, covered in Manoan ruins, and absolutely wild—but there wasn’t a man around, except for us, of course. I still remember when we unearthed it—gold and jewels and crystals, more than I’d ever seen in my life, enough to make my grandchildren rich.”

At that, he broke off into raucous laughter, the punchline evident. 

“Ah, well, and we all celebrated that night, dancing and drinking and toasting to our new fortunes.” Baptiste trailed off, his expression grew more troubled. “It was sometime during then, that your old man slipped off, he somehow managed to move all of that himself, put it somewhere no one else would find it.”

“What? Why?” Elodie found herself leaning in. “Why would he do that?”

“That’s the part that made some of us think he was a madman.” Baptiste shrugged. “Said he had a bad feeling about it, like it was cursed or something similar. He said that he just knew, somehow, that we’d all come to bad fortune or trouble to take it.”

“I’m surprised he managed to walk away still the Captain,” Kas muttered. 

“Well, that was the part where he was brilliant.” Baptiste sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’d sailed with Vance for sometime, knew he wasn’t the kind to back out easily. Wasn’t the kind to take it all for himself, either. I didn’t understand it, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t furious myself that he was squandering all of it—but no one understood the sea like Captain Vance, I’d reckon. The Lady of the Waters herself must have smiled upon him. If he said it wasn’t right, then I had no choice but to believe him. Most of us felt the same way.”

“My mother said she left to protect his greatest treasure, the night she left.” Elodie clutched fistfuls of her gray skirts. “She’s after what my father left there.”

“He must have entrusted her with the true location of it.” Baptiste frowned, then tilted his head. “That would be why Hawkins is looking for her, I’d imagine. This was back before he had his own ship, you know. He and your father, before he died, they were as thick as thieves—well, because they were thieves!”

Baptiste burst out into laughter again, but was quick to sober. He looked Elodie directly in the eye, that dangerous gleam returning. 

“Lass, if you want to find your mother, I’d look for the map that Hawkins has,” Baptiste declared. “Hell if I know how you’ll get it. But that’s the key to where your mother is.”