Isabelle and Marie turned to see a stout woman with reddish-brown skin and eyes like chips of onyx come floating in on her own personal updraft. She wore a clan motley of the same pale green and aquamarine blue as Djordji’s token.

Feng said, “Fellhand Marie, be known to yer clan’s vote capitaine, Solo Preetah. Solo Preetah, meet Jackhand Djordji’s daughter, Fellhand Marie.”

Preetah took in the sort of breath that might have been the prelude to an epic aria. “Is he here? Does the jackhand return?”

“In spirit,” Marie said. “He died two days ago, to my great sorrow. I’ve brought him home. I also mean to prove myself a fellhand, champion of the Gyrine.”

To Isabelle’s immense surprise Preetah’s anger deflated. “Leave it to Djordji to play one last trick. I’ve heard of you, child. I get word on the wind that Djordji’s taken one under his wing, a special one they say. Still, the sky’s full of special folk, and trained as you may be by him who’s seen the best of all, you want no part of this challenge. Gyrine don’t kill Gyrine, but you see that gate?” She pointed to the arena entrance. “That’s the Ravenous Gate, sweetling. Once you go through it, you’re already dead and those rules don’t apply. There’s twelve fellhands waiting for you out there, all seasoned and deadly, who’s seen many a keen upstart bleed out on their blades.”

“Djordji also told me about you,” Marie said. “He said you’d try to talk me out of it. He’s been gone for sixty years, but he always paid his share, and I’ve come to draw on that.”

Preetah snorted. “His stash is of little worth. Certainly not to get yourself killed over.”

“I have his log book,” Marie said. “And I know how to add. If you’re willing to accept me as his rightful daughter and hand over my share, then I’ll have no need to walk through the Ravenous Gate.”

Preetah looked like she’d just sucked the queen of lemons. “Even winning doesn’t prove you’re Djordji’s heir.”

“That depends on how I do it,” Marie said.

Preetah flipped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It doesn’t matter. I does right and tries to warn you, but you doesn’t listen. You chooses death over life, which no Gyrine ever does. Still if you change yer mind afore they call you out, let me know. I arranges for you to leave Flotsam with your ship and your crew. Else they be treated as plunder.”

“I decline your offer,” Marie said. “And I will come when the battle is over to retrieve my father’s clan share. Builder keep you safe from harm.”