Lewis leaned in, reading aloud:
"Oh, gather ‘round, ye sailors bold, and hear the tale I tell,
Of cursed lands and treasure grand, where ancient shadows dwell.
The verdant isle, with whispered wiles, their secrets dark they keep,
But those who dare to venture there will find no peaceful sleep."
Lewis exhaled. "The verdant isle—that’s got to be Verdance. I don’t like the part about ‘no peaceful sleep’..."
He scanned further, reading the chorus:
"Yo-ho, yo-ho, we sail against the tide,
To break the curse, we roam the earth, where hidden dangers hide.
With moon and star and flower fair, we’ll brave the endless sea,
With another verse, we’ll lift the curse and set our people free."
"What does any of this mean?” Lewis murmured.
Vivienne shook her head. "I don’t know. Maybe a clue for finding the tribute? Or nothing at all. Without knowing more about the islands, it’s hard to say."
Lewis tapped his fingers rhythmically against the wood, then suddenly—he hummed the melody.
Vivienne’s head snapped up. "Wait! You know this song?"
Lewis raised his eyebrows slowly. "I think Johanna used to sing it when we stayed with her. Usually, while she was dusting or kneading dough."
Her pulse quickened. "I knew it sounded familiar."
Lewis drummed the table again. "Did she learn it from Charles? He was a fisherman before he retired."
Vivienne snapped her fingers. "That has to be it. Bare Fang Bill said sailors sang it at sea. Maybe it made its way to the fishing boats."
Lewis nodded. "We should keep cross-referencing the lyrics with what we find on Verdance. It could help us figure out what the tribute is." He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Speaking of our upcoming adventure, we should sleep while we can."
Vivienne hesitated.Night shift.
Lewis glanced at her. "What’s that look for?"
She hadn’t told him about Cirrus. About spending hours alone with her ex-fiancé under the stars.
She forced a smile. "Nothing. I’ll see you in the morning."
Lewis eyed her suspiciously but let it go.
As she secured her mother’s journal back into her tote, one thought lingered in her mind—If the sea shanty holds the keys to finding the tributes, how many more secrets has it been hiding in plain sight?
* * *
Vivienne blinked hard,the words on the pages blurring into an indecipherable haze. With a sigh, she shut the journal and rubbed her temples. She had no idea how late it was, only that exhaustion clung to her like a wet cloak. A short nap, just enough to keep her upright through the night shift, would have to do.
Her fingers fumbled with the key as she reached her cabin, her hands clumsy with fatigue. The lock wobbled beneath her grip, the key scraping against metal. Frustration simmered at the edges of her exhaustion.
"Good evening, Miss Banner."
