The rumor that something was afoot had spread quickly, and as soon as the ship was out of immediate danger, the crew congregated on deck. Aenwyn, who was clearly just as excited to share the news as her crew was to hear about it, hopped up to stand on a barrel and unrolled the scroll with a dramatic flourish.

"I see you're all hard at work," she said with a humorous glint in her eyes. "But as busy as you are, you'll want to take a moment to listen to this."

Vivi excitedly turned to listen to the captain, hoping she would disclose more details about Zeren's "job" than she'd had time for before their abrupt departure from the harbor.

"As you may have guessed, this message is indeed from Zeren," the captain continued. "He claims to have the 'job of a lifetime' for us. He says he can't reveal the exact nature of said job until we meet in person—apparently, he's afraid someone might have intercepted the message and claimed the bounty for themselves—but he insists the payment will be more than we could ever dream of."

"He should choose his words more wisely," said Sergius, a middle-aged swordsman who had sailed with Aenwyn for many years, "considering we have the king of dreamers himself on board." Owen, who very well knew this was referring to him, took a flamboyant bow as the rest of the crew chuckled.

"You have my word I'll fill my dreams with nothing but piles and piles of gold," he said solemnly. "I won't fail you."

"Quite so," Aenwyn chuckled. "Anyway. Zeren has told us to rendezvous with him south of Nar Badhir on the second day of the month of Haimai, which is in"—she paused for a split second, doing the math in her head—"three days, if I'm not mistaken." She turned to Sarjeon, who was standing at the helm. "What do you think? Can we make it in time?"

"If the wind stays with us, captain," Sarjeon responded. "And if we follow the currents."

"Very good," Aenwyn said, hopping down from the barrel and clapping her hands together. "Let's get to it, boys!"

By the time the sun started to set, they had made it to the coast, where the river ended—and the abyss began. The river's water plunged over the enchanted barrier separating the two and disappeared down into the void with a dull roar, but the ship simply floated along like a leaf carried on the familiar rush of warm wind rising from the dark and foreboding nothingness—the Breath of the Spirits, as Aenwyn called it.

Vivi still remembered the first time she had sailed into the abyss with Captain Aenwyn. She had seen countless voidfaring ships in Bhadh harbor before, of course, their hulls clad in the enchanted scales of the legendary voidwyrm—but to actually be on a ship far into the void, surrounded by sheer nothingness, was an experience that simply couldn't be described.

As the Ajdaha slowly coasted further down into the void, the sounds of the river's final plunge disappearing behind them and giving way to an eerie silence, the crew busied themselves with unfurling the wing sails and swinging them out over the railing. Covered in voidwyrm scales just like the hull, the sails immediately caught the Breath and arrested the ship's descent, pulling it instead into a steep climb. Once satisfied that the climb was stable, Aenwyn ordered subtle adjustments to the wings, and the ship turned due east, keeping the little island in sight.

Once there was nothing left for her to do on deck, Vivi went downstairs to the small room belowdecks where they usually spend their nights on board. She sat on her hammock, occasionally looking out through the little window in the stern towards the sunset as she tinkered with her hopefully soon-to-be weapon. She had gathered parts from all over during the last few months—the remains of an old flintlock pistol from Bhadh, half of an old pressure tank from the workshops of Uinas, and at the heart of it all: a magical spark stone she had stolen from a merchant in Yaaldel.

She set to work in her quest to fiddle the pieces together but found herself stopping, again and again, to glance out through the window. In the gloom and silence of the dying daylight, the memories of the day replayed themselves. The memory of their far too narrow escape. Of the bullets that had whizzed past her ear. Of the deadly look in the tincap's eyes. Finally, she sighed and put down her handiwork, glancing over at Owen, who was lying in his own hammock, whistling a little tune without a care in the world.

What am I going to do with him? she thought to herself, smiling fondly—but the smile quickly dropped. Owen had always been confident in himself. Too confident, perhaps; the bullets today got too close, and if one of those tincaps had just aimed just so slightly the other way... she would be one less a friend.

"Really, though," she started as if she had been continuing a sentence, glancing over at Owen, "do you have to keep pissing off people with guns?"

Owen looked up at her for a second, then smiled as he let his head fall back down onto the hammock. "I don't know Vivi... it seems to have worked out pretty well for us so far."

Vivi chuckled. "Maybe. But we might not be so lucky every time someone pulls a gun on us."

"So what do you suggest?" Owen said, rolling out of his hammock to sit on the floor. "Do we go back to begging on the streets in Brolzo?"

"No, but..." Vivi sighed. Owen did make a point—they'd both rather have a bit of danger in their lives than suffer in silence under the injustices of her homeland. "I just wish we could get by without having to risk getting shot at."

"Eh, that might be asking too much," Owen replied with a grin. "Besides... since when was 'getting by' enough for you?" He scratched his head, as if trying to remember something. "You know, I met a girl called Vivi Blackwood once back in Bhadh... you know what she said?"

"Do tell," Vivi mumbled, bringing the pressure tank up to her face to study it. She was pretty sure she knew where he was going with this, but there was little use trying to stop him once he got going. "And if you make fun of my accent again, I'll convince Sarjeon to have you keelhauled."

"Well, it was honestly a little hard to follow," he said defensively. "But I do distinctly remember something about the 'rich, rotten nobility' and how it was up to us 'alley-dwellers' to 'change things'. Make them more fair."

"That does sound like me," Vivi admitted, putting the pressure tank back down. "But it's getting a bit more dangerous than I bargained for."

Owen smiled. "All part of the deal in a pirate's life."