I wasn’t much in the habit of making prophecies; that was more my mother’s discipline. “If you keep that up, you’ll break a bone.” “You’ll burn yourself if you’re not careful.” “There will be times you regret speaking your thoughts aloud, Jovis.” I knew the sinking of Unta wasn’t my fault, that it had occurred long before I’d singled the island out, but nothing could change the queasy feeling that I’d named Unta as the next island to sink, and it had.

It felt like a lifetime ago that I’d been paid to drop a girl and a boy off at Unta, putting them in the care of the Shardless Few, saving them from the Tithing Festival. Mephi had liked them. I wondered if they’d made it off the island before it sank, or if I’d saved them from one ill fate only to subject them to another.

“This doesn’t change anything,” was the first thing Lin had said, though her face had been pale. “We have to move forward with expanding Pulan’s mine. I need Riya.”

“For what? Moral support? Iloh’s guards won’t make enough of a difference.” And there was the instant regret for speaking my thoughts out loud. My mother really was a prophet.

“See to your duties, Captain,” she’d said, her chin tilted, her words crisp. “And leave the politics to those who understand them.” We’d barely spoken since.

I glanced out the porthole of my cramped room, watching the clouds roll over the waves, the Alanga book in my hands. I’d launched an investigation into the assassination attempt at Riya – or what investigation I could. I’d taken the weapons they’d used, pieces of their clothing. Their clothing was plain and dark, but the similarities ended there. The outfits were pieced together from disparate parts – some items looking new, some old and patched. When I’d brought these findings to Lin, she’d seemed surprisingly unconcerned, eager to be rid of me once more. There was something she wasn’t telling me. Secrets lingered around the woman like fish scales wedged beneath a butcher’s fingernails.

A knock sounded at my door. “Nephilanu’s been sighted,” one of my guards said.

I closed the Alanga book and stowed it back within my bag. “I’ll be up to the deck shortly.”

Mephi was already up there with Thrana, after having sighed and moped about my cabin for the better part of the day. Finally, as we approached, they’d stopped burning witstone above-deck. He hated being in confined spaces, but loved being out on the Endless Sea.

I made my way to the deck only to run into the one person I’d been wanting to avoid.