‘Dusk?’ questioned Saburo, his expression troubled. ‘But it’s still only morning.’

Jack nodded gravely. ‘It could be a while before we get lucky. So we need to be prepared for a long voyage. What else is left in the bag?’

Yori had a hunt through. ‘Our samurai clothes, our packs, the pilgrim bags, your rutter and Saburo’s swords.’

Jack looked down at the ragged remains of his pilgrim outfit. There was little point in changing clothes until they reached dry land, but they needed to protect themselves from the sun.

‘Put our belongings in the packs, then tie them to the raft,’ instructed Jack. ‘We can make a shelter with the canvas bag. It may be spring, but that sun will soon burn out here on the water.’

Yori got to work, happy to be guided by Jack’s seafaring expertise rather than think about their dire situation. Jack found a loose piece of wood from the raft’s edge to act as a supporting strut and wedged it in between the planks. Driving the steel tip of her ninjatō into the deck, Miyuki used this as a second strut. Together, they erected the makeshift shelter and helped Saburo into its shade.

‘We still have our weapons,’ said Miyuki, pulling a straight-spiked shuriken from her utility belt. ‘With Yori’s staff, I could make a fishing spear.’

‘Good idea,’ said Jack. ‘Then at least we might catch some food.’

‘But what are we going to drink?’ asked Yori. ‘We can’t use seawater.’

‘The canvas is ready for when it rains. That’ll be our only source.’

They looked up into the sky. It was crystal blue and cloudless.

‘We might be waiting a long time,’ said Saburo glumly.

The sun had reached its zenith and was beating down relentlessly upon the raft. The canvas bag did little to alleviate the scorching heat and the shade it offered was only large enough to accommodate two people. The others had to sit in the sun’s full glare, their discomfort compounded as the salt water dried and cracked their skin. Already weak from their imprisonment, their exposure quickened the debilitating effects of thirst and hunger. As time went on, the five friends became more listless and a growing sense of desperation spread among them.

So far there had been no sight of land or any other ships. Jack worried that the raft had floated out of the tidal current and was no longer drifting in any particular direction. Or worse, they were in the Pacific Ocean and beyond saving.

Miyuki crouched at the edge of the deck, spear in hand. She hadn’t moved for over an hour, waiting with dogged determination for a fish to swim by. A school of tiny blue ones flitted beneath the shadow of the raft, but none offered a realistic catch.

‘Can’t we make a sail from this canvas?’ suggested Cheng.