"Long ago," Captain Garrett began, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial hush, "there sailed a great ship—not unlike our lady Zephyrus—called the Tempest’s Veil. But this was no ordinary vessel. Oh no… this ship was bewitched."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the sailors. Excited, skeptical, enthralled.
Vivienne flicked her gaze to Thorne, who looked less than impressed.
The captain smirked. "Why am I not surprised you’re a nonbeliever, Thorne?"
Thorne exhaled, unamused. "I do my best not to surprise you, captain."
Garrett chuckled, undeterred. "The world was once humming with enchantments, full of all manner of magic."
Thorne scoffed. "Sure… and Gus once had hair."
The deck erupted in laughter. Gus’ deep, booming laugh was the loudest of all, his mustache twitching with mirth.
And for the first time since she’d met him, Commander Thorne smiled. A wide, bright, undeniably human smile. The dimple she’d noticed before carved deep into his cheek. Vivienne stared, barely breathing.
Lewis nudged her with a sharp elbow. "Oh my gods," he whispered. "Did the statue just make a joke?"
Vivienne grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. "Maybe the captain is right," she whispered back, "magic might still exist after all."
The day had been full of surprises: a doctor who nearly became an opera singer, a pirate-turned-boatswain hopelessly in love, and a captain who could spin a tale that captivated even the roughest sailors.
To top it off, her ex-fiancé spent hours doing dishes to spare her hands.
Vivienne let out a breath. She had a feeling this voyage was going to continue to surprise her.
17
As most of the sailors drifted back to their stations, the clamor of the evening’s revelry settled into the hum of the ship at night. The rhythmic creak of the Zephyrus filled the quiet, mingling with the soft lapping of waves against the hull.
Vivienne leaned against the wall of her narrow cabin, determining how she’d wash herself with the small amount of fresh water and the honey lavender soap she’d packed.
A knock hammered. Jarring Vivienne from her strategizing.
An annoyed voice with a thick accent called through the wood.
"Banner!"
She pulled open the door to see Florence Solandis standing there, arms crossed, her sphere of curls bouncing as she shook her head.
"Your glasses friend is taking up much of my space with his books," Florence huffed. "Says he needs to show you something before he'll move."
Vivienne bit back a laugh. "Sorry, Ms. Solandis."
She grabbed her tote bag and headed below deck, her footsteps light against the worn wood. The gun deck was dimly lit by lanterns swaying gently with the motion of the ship. Lewis sat hunched over a long wooden table, usually reserved for maintaining weapons, but tonight it looked more like a library. Books and papers were strewn across the surface, the pages filled with intricate sketches and scrawled notes in his terrible handwriting.
At the sound of her footsteps, he glanced up, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.
"Viv, you made it. I thought Solandis might use the books for cannon fodder if you took any longer."
She slid onto the bench beside him, glancing at the organized chaos spread before them. "You've been busy."
"Had to find something to do while I was avoiding you." His shoulder bumped hers, the friendly warmth returning to his voice.
Vivienne’s lips pulled up at the edges, but her focus shifted to the book he pulled closer. The glow of the lantern illuminated the page—an intricate drawing of a thick, climbing vine with coiling tendrils. The notes labeled it asBauhinia guianensis, a common vine in rainforest climates.
Lewis grabbed a second book, aligning it next to the first. The inked sketch on the page was nearly identical, but the handwriting was different.
