The brig was dark and cramped, buried deep within the hold of the warship, and as the door slammed shut behind them, Vivi couldn't help but feel a bit claustrophobic. This place couldn't have been designed for more than two or three prisoners at a time, unless cramming prisoners together like Dhularumian anchovies was standard Eskiholti policy.

Owen and Morwen had both been imprisoned together with her—a stroke of sheer luck, according to Owen, who said he had heard the crew discussing splitting the prisoners between the two warships—and while she was happy not to be separated from Owen, she wasn't sure how to feel about Morwen. She had just saved her life, but Vivi couldn't wrap her head around why; she had never liked the girl, and she got the sense that the feeling was mutual. Not that Morwen had told her this—Vivi couldn't recall ever having heard her talk at all, and when she wasn't eating, sleeping, or handling weaponry, she spent most of her time just glowering at anyone who came near her. But like her or not, Vivi thought, she was part of the crew, so she resolved to be happy she was there.

Unfortunately, however, it wasn't long before one final prisoner was thrown into the brig with them: the Crow. Quite possibly the last person Vivi wanted to see.

"Great. Of course we get stuck with you," Vivi growled, glaring at the wounded assassin hunched over on the empty crate that served as the brig's only bench, with a mess of bloody bandages around his waist and a set of heavy manacles around his wrists. "Murderer."

"You'll have to narrow that down," the Crow mumbled. "I've killed very many people."

Vivi's eyes narrowed. "You killed Kharis and Ardreth."

"What's it to you?" the Crow grunted, not even bothering to look up. "Were they part of your crew?" He shook his head, confidently answering his own question without waiting for a response. "I know their type. They wander around, looking for trouble, and it certainly seems they found it."

Vivi clenched her fists, feeling her anger boiling over as the memories of the battle finally started to sink in. It was true, Kharis and Ardreth didn't always travel with them—but that didn't mean they weren't part of Aenwyn's crew. She stared furiously at the Crow for a moment—and then, in a rush of grief-stricken anger, swung around and punched him in the side of his head, her knuckles cracking against the moon elf's skull.

Initially, the Crow didn't react in the slightest—he just slumped sideways against the wall, staying in the position he had been punched into. Soon, however, he seemed to wake up as if from a dream, and a malicious sneer slowly crept onto his face.

"You know," he said, his voice clear and calm, "I'm having a really bad day."

Suddenly, without warning, the elf jumped to his feet and lunged towards Vivi. This suited Vivi just fine, and she wound up for another punch, but as if he had been expecting exactly this, Owen jumped between them, shoving Vivi out of the way and holding the assassin back.

"He killed our crewmates!" Vivi spat, stumbling against the wall from the force of the shove. "He killed them, and you're defending him?!"

Owen grunted as the Crow struggled against his grip; although he was clearly weakened by his injuries and hindered by his restraints, he was still a formidable fighter. "Not defending him," he hissed as the assassin landed an elbow strike in his midsection. "I'm trying to stop him from strangling you."

Seething with rage, Vivi only replied with a furious glare, but she had to admit that Owen had a point: making enemies in the assassins' guild didn't exactly tend to be good for one's health. On the other hand, if they managed to convince the assassin to work with them, he could be a very capable ally, as much as she hated the thought. She took a deep breath and joined Owen, who had managed to at least partially subdue the Crow, and together they wrestled him back onto the crate where he had been sitting earlier.

"Now," Owen said as soon as the elf had stopped struggling, "are you gonna behave?" He crossed his arms with as much sternness as he could muster, which wasn't a whole lot.

The Crow only grunted in response, leaning his head back against the wall and shutting his eyes.

Vivi took a deep breath, internally weighing the pros and cons of punching him again before deciding to stick to diplomacy. "Look. We can sit here and bicker until we rot, or we can work together," she said, crossing her arms as well. "The assassins' guild has safe houses all across the Remnants, right? We can escape together, then hide out in one of those."

The assassin sighed, eyes still closed. "And why should I help you with that?" he mused. "Please. Enlighten me." He smiled mirthlessly.

"Frankly, I don't see you making it very far on your own, considering you've only got a poorly wrapped bandage separating your insides from your outsides. And if nothing else, there are two of us and only one of you—and we're not chained up."

"The implication being that you're at our mercy," Owen chimed in helpfully, forgetting completely to look stern.

The Crow grimaced, clearly offended by the very idea of being at anyone's mercy, but he didn't argue any further.