My stomach was in knots as we stood at the entrance to the harbor and my heart jumped into my throat when the Marigold came into view.

She was beautiful, her honey-hued wood aglow in the morning light. The sea was clear and blue behind her, and the new sails were as white as fresh cream, rolled up neatly on the masts. More than once, I’d wondered if I’d ever see her again.

That same feeling I had each time I saw her at the barrier islands—deep relief—came over me, making my bottom lip tremble. When he realized that I’d stopped, West turned back, looking up at me from the bottom of the steps. His hair caught in the wind, and he tucked it behind his ears before he pulled the cap from his pocket and tugged it on.

I took up the skirts and followed him. The docks were bustling with inventory to be logged and helmsmen waiting for their approvals from Bastian’s harbor master. He stood at the mouth of the longest slip, bent over a table of parchments as I passed. The ledger he’d shown Holland was open, recording the ships that had come in through the night. In another hour, the logs would likely be sitting on Holland’s desk.

My steps faltered when a face I recognized was lit with the glow of a barrel fire. Calla had her head wrapped in a scarf, the muscles in her arms taking shape under her skin as she pried the lid off a crate with one hand. The other was still tucked into a sling from where I’d broken her fingers.

I searched the other docks for any sign of Koy, but I didn’t see him. He and everyone else on the Luna would be looking for work like the harbor master said, scraping together what coin they could until they got onto another crew or purchased passage back to the Narrows.

Ahead, the bow of the Marigold was dark except for a single lantern that flickered with a yellow flame. A slight silhouette was painted against the sky.

Willa.

She leaned over the railing, looking down at us. Her twisted locks were pulled up on top of her head like a coil of rope. I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear the long exhale that escaped her lips as she spotted us.

The ladder unrolled a moment later, and Clove climbed up first. West held it in place for me to take hold of the rungs. When he didn’t look at me, I squared my shoulders to him, waiting. “Are we all right?” I asked.

“We’re all right,” West said, meeting my eyes. But he was still cold.