It’s not just the jars that are strange. The air is tinged with the smell of burning herbs and dank water. In fact, I can hear a drip, drip, drip coming from in front of us and, even more alarming, the swish of something large moving through water.

There’s a splash, the flare of a match, and a lamp is lit at the back of the cabin.

And then . . . I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing.

Brown eyes stare at us from a brown face. I see strong arms, a ferocious scowl, webbed fingers, a mass of knotted blue hair, and lots and lots of tattoos.

“Mitch?” whispers Rose.

Mitch is sitting on the edge of a giant copper bath, her tail trailing in the water. Recognition flashes across her face. “ROSE TROUT!” she bellows, then she lifts her tail and slams it down, showering us with water.

With a cry of joy Rose shoves past me, and throws herself at her long-lost friend.

Mitch pulls her into a tight hug. “Is that really you, Rose? I don’t believe it!”

Then a lot of things happen at once. Mitch yanks a rope, opening a shutter, Rose laughs with happiness, and Win slips over in a pool of water, pulling me down with him.

When we get to our feet, Mitch’s arms are still wrapped tight around Rose. In fact, she looks like she’s never going to let go. Rose, meanwhile, is staring at Mitch with a mixture of wonder and pure happiness. I realize I haven’t seen Rose smile like this in ages. It’s totally different from her selfie smile, or her school smile. It’s massive, beaming, and it takes over her whole face.

Mitch does a hearty cackle. “Sorry about my crew and the creepy room and whatnot. I try to have a bit of an attitude when we take prisoners, you know, show them who’s boss. Well, I’m sorry for you, Rose. Win and Arthur”—she waggles a webbed finger in our direction—“not so much. HA HA HA!” Hearing that laugh again, deep-bellied and gravelly, I realize just how suited Mitch is to life as a pirate captain.

Mitch holds Rose away from her and looks at her appraisingly. “You’ve changed,” she says. “Got bigger and stuff . . . Why aren’t you talking?”

“Because I’m . . . happy,” manages Rose. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you too,” says Mitch. Then she grins, swings her tail out of the tub, and uses it to tap a battered leather sofa. “Grab a pew, me hearties, and tell me where you’ve been, and why you’re sailing around in some weird shark ship dressed as polar bears.”