Late late late, and more than a little drunk, Cat wove toward the Bounty. They’d drawn up the gangplank, but with a running leap she cleared the few yards between dock and ship, caught a net slung over the side to dry, and face-planted against wood that smelled of tar and salt. She climbed the side, caught the railing, vaulted over, and was promptly tackled by a skeleton.

The tackle didn’t go well for the skeleton, since skeletons by and large don’t have enough mass for tackling. Cat tossed the skelly across her shoulder to the deck. Poorly linked bones jarred loose as it fell. Two blades glinted in firelight to her left. She grabbed the skeleton’s fallen sword, slipped, and tumbled into a front roll that she hoped looked planned. Upright more or less, she spun sternward to face the blades: a shiny woman—with gills?—and a man whose left arm was some sort of golemetric construct. She raised one hand, palm out, lowered the sword. “Hey. Hey. No trouble. I just want to see your boss.”

“Should have climbed higher,” Raz said from the foredeck. She turned and waved with the sword. Lantern flames added orange to the scab-red of his eyes.

“I was just looking for you!”

“I know.” He landed in front of her, strong enough his weight didn’t cause his legs to bend.

“Show-off.”

“You’re drunk.”

She laughed. “You’re funny.” She set the sword on the deck. Well, maybe dropped would be more accurate. No worries. Swords were tough.

“Come inside. Let’s get you something that isn’t poison.”

He led her into his cabin and poured her a tall glass of water. She sat on the couch-bed, dimpling the velvet with her fingers. The cabin was silver and gold and crimson everywhere, neat and dusted and polished—Raz couldn’t have space, so he compensated with luxury. “Went to see Abelard’s family. You know. End of the world stuff. We drank to solve problems.” She touched the badge at her neck and invited Justice to burn the alcohol from her blood. “See? All better.”

“Drink water anyway. I know what you’re like hung over.”

“Friends drink with you,” she said when the glass was half-done. “Good friends make you hydrate.” She set the empty glass on the end table.

“Why are you here, Cat?”

“Can I see the token she gave you?”

He produced it like a street conjurer summoning a coin. Up close it seemed clouded and deep. Strange shapes shifted within. Her head swam as she watched them. She passed the stone back. “What does it do?”