Full dark came with no moon and a wind that hid oars.
Elizabeth had meant to go alone. Isolde refused to put a boat on rescue water without a hull under it. Vale refused to leave the well. That left Sael, me, and a living ship that still wore the scorch from the reef. We went wide of the three banners and came up on the lead hull's shadow side, where the gold ribs were black and the watch was watching the city, not the seam.
Shen Yuren's deck smelled of the same incense as his sister's.
The book was not in a chest. It was on the chart table under a weight, the burned line still smelling of hot ink. He was standing over it with two officers when Sael cut the first watch without a sound. Elizabeth came over the rail on the second breath. I came on the third, because the thread had felt the page before my boots felt the deck.
Yuren looked up and did not reach for a blade first. He reached for the book.
Elizabeth was faster.
