“Do you have any idea what we’ve done to get here? To find you?” Willa spat. This time, she was talking to me. “And now you want to save the man who’s made our lives hell for the last two years?”

At the bow, Clove watched with an air of amusement. He crossed his arms over the chest in his lap, eyes jumping from West to the others.

“You still haven’t told us what we’re supposed to be dredging,” Auster said calmly. He looked as if he was the only one not ready to punch West in the face.

“Before my mother left Bastian, she stole something from Holland,” I said. “Midnight.”

Paj’s eyes went wide, but Willa’s narrowed.

Auster laughed, but it bled to silence when he met my eyes. “What, you’re serious?”

“It’s in Yuri’s Constellation. All we have to do is find it.”

“There is no we,” Paj growled. “Not in this.”

I bristled, taking a step back. But Paj didn’t blink.

“No one’s even seen it!” Hamish shrieked. “It’s probably not even real. No more than a story some drunk Saltblood bastard told at a tavern.”

“It’s real,” Clove said, his deep voice silencing them.

Hamish shook his head. “Even if it is, another piece of midnight hasn’t been dredged since it was unveiled by Holland.”

“My mother found it. So can I,” I said.

The familiar fire reignited in Willa’s eyes. “You’re insane. Both of you.”

“I want everything together by the end of the day. We shove off at dawn,” West said.

All four of them stared at him, furious. After another moment, he pushed off the mizzen, running one hand through his hair before he started for the breezeway. I watched him disappear into the helmsman’s quarters before I followed.

The light from the room crept through the open door and the floorboards creaked as I stepped inside. The familiar smell of West’s cabin poured into my lungs, and I wrapped my arms around myself, eyeing the string of adder stones hanging in the window.

“What was that?” I said.

West pulled a green rye glass from the drawer of his desk and reached up to the bulkhead, feeling down the length of it. The hem of his shirt came up, showing a sliver of bronze skin, and I bit the inside of my cheek.

His hand finally hit what he was looking for and pulled an amber bottle from the rafter. He uncorked it, filling the glass. “I’ve been having this dream,” he said. “Since Dern.”

I watched him pick up the glass and the uncomfortable silence stretched between us.

He shot the rye, swallowing hard. “About that night that we killed Crane.” He held the glass out to me.

I took it, wondering if that’s why he’d woken with a start this morning in Azimuth House.