He jogged along the path to the boulder field. The daylight made it a different world to the one he’d seen the night before. The side of the track was scrubby with cutting grass and Bushman’s Bootlace, tall smoky tea-trees looming over him. He passed a couple of hikers – this was the beginning of a much longer trail – who were sitting on a bench, fixing their gear. Insects buzzed and a lull in the ocean breeze rendered the tea-tree smell heady and muggy.

No breeze?

That was one of the few signs that occasionally came before a Black Wind. Was it brewing even now? Ahab glanced at the sky. No rippled clouds. Yet.

He turned off at one of the sandy paths that led down into the boulder field, onto the rocks.

‘Forest?’ he yelled. His voice carried easily without any wind.

He climbed over a few rocks, orienting himself to the direction of the tomb cave. Would Forest be there? Why would he be there?

How did Ivy know he was headed towards the boulder field? thought Ahab suddenly.

Ivy would have to have been at least in that carpark to guess Forest was headed to the boulders, and there was no reason for her to be there. And no way would Forest have told her where he was going.

That woman was up to something. All that time he’d foolishly assumed Ivy was sitting in that mansion, watching events unfold, but of course she’d been playing her own angle behind the scenes. He just had no idea what that angle was . . .

‘Found him yet?’ came Kane’s voice.

Ahab spun with a growl. ‘Go back, boy.’

‘No,’ said Kane. ‘Something is going on here.’

Ahab turned and began walking back to the carpark, following the line where scrub met boulder. ‘Back to the car. Now.’

‘No,’ said Kane, hurrying to catch up with him.

Ahab came around a bend in the banksia scrub and pulled up short. Kane bumped into him from behind.

‘Don’t move, boy,’ said Ahab, reaching out to grab him.

Before them stood one of Blackbeard’s men – the tall one with red hair and a pockmarked face. Vance. The man who’d been there when Tranquil shot Chips. He wore a long jacket – in this weather? – and it had the telltale shape of a firearm. Ahab’s mind turned back to the sawn-off that had killed Chips.

‘Hello, Ahab,’ said Vance. He smiled, showing little studded jewels in his large teeth. ‘You were supposed to be alone, but I see you brought a friend. Come out, boy. You’re a tall one, aren’t ya? I think this must be my lucky day.’

‘Stay behind me,’ hissed Ahab.

Kane stepped around him. ‘What’s going on here?’

Ahab grabbed his shoulder, his eyes never leaving the man.

Kane shrugged out of Ahab’s hold and skipped over to the man.