A letter from Ellewyn:

Princess Whoreika,

Roses are red, violets are blue,
Sorena can't possibly be more annoying than you

Love,
Queen Isabella

-------------------------

"How far are you willing to take this?"

Erika closed the terrace curtains. Even though it was a warm night in the courtyard, she felt a chill blow across her bare shoulders.

"...I don't want her dead if that's what you are asking," she said, brushing her arm nervously as if she had just walked into an invisible spiderweb. "I just need her...indisposed for a while."

"Indisposed...? She's the ruler of the most powerful country in the world. You can't expect her to simply disappear for a few weeks. Somebody is bound to miss her...probably."

"She's a menace and a danger to every living creature in this land. Without her, Ellewyn will enjoy its first time of peace in over three years. Her people need her off the throne just as much as my people do."

"I see..." There was a long pause in their conversation. "...For the sake of argument, let's say I am able to break into the castle and kidnap her—what then? What am I supposed to do with her? I've seen how she acts when she's somewhere she doesn't want to be. She's worse than a baby. That's not exactly good hostage material."

"Are you saying you won't do it, Kamilla?"

The mercenary took a sip of juice.

"...No, I'm not saying I won't do it," she said, leaning against the railing. "I'm not even saying I can't do it. I'm just saying it will be very, very difficult to pull off... Am I to assume the act of killing anyone during this mission is not acceptable?"

"I'm asking you to do this instead of the Blades because I know that's a code you live by, Kamilla."

The corner of the mercenary's lip rose. "I'm the only thief with a heart of gold. Is that it?"

"Yes. And when this war is over, I'll personally see to it that your criminal record in Kaligar is wiped clean. You'll never again have to watch your back in my land."

"...For all your studies of culture and people, you don't know much about the life of a mercenary. Even if you had the power to take the bounty off my head, there will always be those who will want to kill me. It's the price I pay for doing what's right at the expense of the law."

"Then it's time I share that price with you, my friend. If you get caught, we'll both go down for this."

"And you're willing to risk that?"

Erika took one last look at the letter she had received from Ellewyn.

"...I don't have a choice," she said. "Isabella has to be dealt with. She can't be allowed to be the spark that sends all of Adelais up in flames." She held the paper up to one of the blazing torches and watched it quickly turn to ash.

"So, now the fate of the world rests with me..." Kamilla said.

"I hope it's not too much to ask."

"Break into an impenetrable castle, sneak past an elite military group whose sole purpose is to protect the queen, kidnap the most powerful person in all of Adelais, and somehow get Isabella back here without being seen by anyone... And to do it all with a bounty on my head that would be enough to buy a small island."

"You've gone up against bigger challenges."

"Yeah, like being a mother."

Erika laughed, but it was the most uncomfortable moment of the night.

"...I'll need help, you know," Kamilla said.

"I don't want to bring the Blades in on this."

"The Blades?" Kamilla rolled her eyes. "I said I need help, not hindrance. Lynne and her goons couldn't sneak up on a deaf tortoise in winter."

"So, who did you have in mind?"

"Well, there is...one person who might be able to help."

"Oh?"

"I've never met her myself. I wouldn't even know where to start looking."

"What's her name?"

"The name's not important. As a person of royalty, it's better you know as little of this operation as possible."

"...Unfortunately, I must agree. It will be easier to feign ignorance that way."

"But you trust me, right?"

"Of course I do, Kamilla, and I trust your judgment. It's just..." Erika's voice trailed off. "...The kind of people who would agree to doing something like this...probably aren't the kind of people you can trust very easily..."

"I do this for a living," the dark-haired mercenary said. "I've learned a little thing or two about trust. I'll simply put out word that I am looking for an accomplice to pull a job."

"You'll get a lot of people gunning for you."

"That's exactly what I want. If rumor gets around that it's a really big job—like the kidnapping of a certain royal brat who might be worth a lot of money to a lot of people—there's a good chance I might run into precisely the person I am looking for... Then it's just a matter of convincing her to do this for all the right reasons."

Erika cupped her hands in front of her face and inhaled.

"...Are you sure it's a good idea to tell the whole world about your plan?" she asked. "What if word gets around to Isabella's people?"

"About a possible kidnapping?" Kamilla tried not to laugh. "Do you have any idea how many rumors I hear every single day about somebody wanting to put an arrow through Isabella's head? That's pretty much the norm these days. Truth be told, that monster is probably worth more dead than alive." She rolled a strand of hair around her finger. "...Considering she's the richest person in all of Adelais, that's saying a lot."

"So, there's nothing to worry about then?"

"If we lived in Ellewyn and were having this conversation, we'd be on the chopping block by morning. The Paladins are willing to kill anyone at even the slightest hint of betrayal... But here, in Kaligar, it's all bar talk. We are fortunate enough to live in a land of drunks and thieves who are always looking for a few extra coins to line their pockets."

Erika nodded. "...I never thought I'd be glad for that."

"You don't have to worry about me, Erika," Kamilla said, putting a hand on her back. "I've never failed you before, and I don't intend to now. I know this means a lot to you."

"It means even more to my people. I have to do what is best for them."

"That is why I am going to be extra cautious with this mission."

"I know you are..." Erika shuddered anyway, despite the warm glow from the torchlight that danced across her skin. "I just hate to think of all the dangers that lurk out there. I hate myself for even asking you to do this... But we live in dark times."

"Excuse me, princess, but we knew that when we took the jobs we did."

"Yes, I suppose you are right..."

Kamilla smiled. "If you want to worry about someone, might I suggest you try Sorena? She's going to have nowhere to run when the people of Kaligar come after her."

"I long for the day."

"I will bring it to you," Kamilla assured her, turning around. "When we next meet again, Isabella will be the least of your worries."

-------------------------

The pearl farms were as quiet as an underwater graveyard at night. There were no workers rushing about, no squeaky rail carts with loads of freshly harvested pearls being pushed through the caverns, no mermaids sprawled out on the rocks with their tails in the water and their eyes on the faces of every man, waiting for a sign of weakness or fatigue. There was only the stillness of the water, breathing calmly and peacefully, like a baby in her sleep, and the rushing of small waterfalls that never slept. The usual glow from above, the artificial white light that filled every glass dome in this vast kingdom under the sea, was shut off at night, turning the pearl farms into a gray dreamworld.

But not all was quiet, and not all persons were asleep in this place. In the station house, where the pearls were stored and inspected and eventually shipped off, there was a group of men in tattered garments gathered around one particular pearl. The pearl was cracked and one of them was taking a knife to it, making the crack even bigger. Jagged shards of the pearl fell to his feet like the pieces of a broken egg, but he continued chipping away at the pearl until he could fit his hand inside.

"You could've gotten a sharper knife," Jargon said. "That blade couldn't cut its way through a fish net."

Malkav stopped cutting for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. "I don't need anything sharper." He flicked back his moist hair with a twitch of his head, tightened his grip on the knife, and began jamming it into the fracture once more. A stream of blood trickled through the wraps he had around his knuckles and palms for protection.

"You're killing yourself, boy. Just ask Bruzzeli for something bigger."

"He's got it under control," Adam said.

"No one asked you, chubs."

Jargon watched for a minute longer and then couldn't stand it anymore.

"Let me have a crack at it, boy," he said, grabbing Malkav's shoulder. "You're the brains of this operation anyway. Not the muscle."

Malkav's blade didn't miss a beat.

"...Get your hand off me, captain," he said, coolly but firmly. "Or I will turn this knife on you."

Jargon dropped his hand and stepped back

"You're crazy if you think you can do this all yourself," he said. "We're a team, remember? A crew. We look out for each other, mate."

Malkav didn't respond.

"...Or maybe you want all the glory for yourself. Is that it?"

"I almost have it."

Jargon scowled.

"Let the young one do his thing," Exthame said. "We are all captains in this life, and we all have our own ships. This is his ship."

"At least one of us still has a ship..." Jargon mumbled before taking a swig of ale.

When the crack was big enough that Malkav could fit his whole arm inside, he did so and grabbed a metal handle that was on the inside. With enough force, he was able to pry open a narrow door that led to the inside of the pearl. Bits of pearl dust and shards rained to the floor. He moved back, revealing a hollow metal pod—just large enough to fit a man-sized person—that was hidden behind an outer shell of pearl.

"Just like how we left it," he said, dusting off his hands. He ignored the blood that was draining down his forearms.

"It's perfect," Adam said, peering inside. "...Um...I get one with more room, right?"

"I think he needs two of them," Blackthorn bellowed, and Jargon laughed alongside of him.

"All the pods are the same size," Malkav said. "You knew that when we built them three years ago."

Adam frowned. "Yeah..." Then he looked down at his belly. "I was also thinner three years ago."

"There will be enough room," Malkav assured him. "We just have to make sure we get these pearl pods over to the shipping bin and get inside of them before the next shipment leaves. That shouldn't be too hard to do since we're stuck on night shift now, thanks to Fay." He grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "If we time this right, gentlemen, we'll be back to the surface before anybody even notices we're gone."

Blackthorn scratched his grizzly chin.

"Exactly how many of these pearl pods did you make for us?" he asked.

"Eight."

Blackthorn began counting on his fingers.

"Well, you, me, the captain, Exthame, and the fat one are five..." he said. Then he realized he had to use the other hand and almost lost count. "Oh, and I assume we're bringing Fay along..."

"And Bruzzeli," Jargon said.

"We don't have to bring Bruzzeli," Adam chipped in.

"What are you talking about, boy? He actually has people on the outside who can help us."

"But...he sucks..."

"At least he brings something to the team! What do you bring, besides extra weight?" Jargon moved closer to him. "Huh, fatso? Does fatso want a cracker?"

Adam almost fell over backwards trying to get away.

"Enough," Malkav said. "Bruzzeli is coming. We knew that from day one. He has the money and the people and the resources to help us with this escape." He started to peel the wraps from his hand. "Because, remember... We're not safe, even if we make it back to the surface."

"Yeah, I feel real safe when I'm around him..." Adam muttered, but he knew that Malkav was right.

Meanwhile, Blackthorn was still working on his arithmetic.

"But that means there are eight pearl pods and....eleven of us!" he exclaimed. "Who are you planning on leaving behind, boy!? I'll arm wrestle anybody for my spot!" He held up the hook he had for a second hand. "Who wants to go? I'll take you all on."

"That makes seven of us," Exthame said quietly. "There is one pearl pod that will be left over."

"Left over?" Jargon echoed. "You mean we went through all the trouble of harvesting this pearl and opening it up just to keep it empty?"

Malkav looked over at Coop, who was the only one in the group actually doing his job. The old man was over by the storage bins, taking inventory and waxing each pearl with a rug as gray and old as his skin. He didn't once look up and didn't once look over to see what it was the others were doing. He was trained, like a soldier in the army, to look only forward, because wandering eyes and idle hands led to an early grave. In Atlantis, that was the grim reality of it all.

"...It won't be empty," Malkav said. "Come shipping day, there will be eight bodies in those pods."

Jargon followed Malkav's gaze over to Coop.

"The old man?" he whispered, although they were well out of hearing range anyway. "Are you mad? I don't even like the idea that he knows about our plan. Fossils like him live for so long because they know how to work the system."

"He's not going to sell us out, if that's what you're thinking," Malkav said.

"Why not? I'd do it if I was him." Jargon shrugged. "What's he got—one, maybe two years left to live? There's no world outside of these pearl farms for him. The best thing he can do for himself is turn us in and live out the last of his days here in mediocre luxury. Maybe the mermaids would even spare him a painful death."

Malkav didn't look at all bothered.

"Not everybody is like you, captain," he said. "The old man wants to go with us. He just doesn't know it yet."

"Whatever. I still don't like it."

"Neither do I," Blackthorn said. "We don't need his old bones slowing us down. We already have chubby over here for that."

Adam glared at him and then turned to Malkav. "...As much as I hate to say this, I agree with them. I'm not so sure it's a good idea to bring the old man along."

"Well, it's a good thing this isn't a democracy then," Malkav said. "The 'old man' is going. If you don't like it, you can give up your seat and find somebody else who has an escape plan. I'm sure we can find somebody to replace you."

"Arr..." Jargon growled. "You've been hanging around that troublesome Fay for too long. You're starting to become just like her."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Nothing we say about Fay is ever a compliment, mate."

Exthame cleared his throat. "Not to interrupt your criticism of our dear comrade Fayrelin, but I was wondering when the next shipment of pearls is leaving for the surface."

"We still have a few days," Malkav said. "At some point, we'll have to figure out how to get these 'defective' pearls past through the final inspection. It's not going to do us much good if they discover some of the pearls have large cracks in them."

Jargon chuckled. "It will do us a lot less good when they discover what's inside those cracks."

"Right." Malkav turned around. "But right now, we have a bigger concern. As you are all aware, the mermaids are still in possession of the Scarab of Water..."

"Here we go again," Jargon said, rolling his eyes. "Boy, would you forget that thing already? I love treasure as much as the next pirate, but even I have to draw the line somewhere."

"You're only saying that because you're sober."

"Probably."

"The point is," Malkav continued, "we are not leaving here without the Scarab of Water. If we don't have it by the time the next shipment is scheduled to leave, we'll have to wait for the next one."

"What!? I'm not waiting around for another month so that you can play treasure hunter."

"This isn't about playing treasure hunter. When I joined your crew three years ago, we set sail with a mission in mind. Now, I've never been much for commitment before, but I've learned a thing or two from being a prisoner here, and I intend to see this mission carried out at any cost."

"But you have to admit that the mission has changed over these past three years," Adam said.

"The portly one is right," Blackthorn said. "The only reason we agreed to your 'mission' was because we wanted to locate the lost treasure of Gravy Bones. And the only reason we agreed to that is because that treasure was the only way we could repay our debt to Fay and get that cursed wench to give us our ship back."

Jargon nodded. "And now that our ship is gone, what reason do we have to find Gravy Bones' treasure at all?"

"Because you're pirates," Malkav said. "You don't have to have reasons for what you do, and you certainly don't need to justify it. You loot and pillage and plunder because you enjoy it. That's why you became pirates in the first place, wasn't it?"

"Aye!" Blackthorn said.

Jargon elbowed him in the gut. "Shut up. Some cheap talk isn't going to make me agree to this, boy. We're already taking enough risks as it is."

"Okay... If you don't want to do it for the endless amounts of treasure that the mermaids are surely hoarding, then what about revenge? The mermaids have put you through three years of slavery and torture. Isn't it about time that the pirates left their mark on this place?"

There was a sudden spark in Jargon's eyes.

"...Aye," he said. "I like the sound of that."

"You can think of it as a war trophy," Malkav said. "Atlantis is the keeper of some of the greatest treasures in the world, and Gravy Bones' treasure is among the grandest of all. To walk away with it—right from under the tails of the mermaids—would make every single one of us legends. They'd probably write songs about us."

Jargon stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "And just think of all the ships I could buy with that treasure... I could be the captain of an entire fleet."

"And isn't that every pirate's dream?"

"That it is, boy!" Jargon laughed and threw his arms around Malkav, kissing him one cheek and then the other. "That it is."

When it was over, Malkav took a step back.

"...Then it's settled," he said, only slightly disturbed by what had just happened. "We have just a few days to find the Scarab of Water and come up with a way to steal it without being caught."

"Do we know where to start looking?" Adam asked.

Malkav began to pace around the pearl. "Well...I know where not to look. We won't find it here."

"I could've told you that, barnacle-brain!" Jargon spat. "The mermaids aren't going to leave the treasure of Gravy Bones just lying around for any man to stumble across."

"No, they're likely to keep it in a very special, very secure place..."

"Like a bank?" Blackthorn suggested.

"No, you're thinking like a woman."

"What did you say!?"

"I said you're thinking like a woman." Malkav brushed back his hair. "Women hide their jewels in chests and drawers and locked safes—places where they can't be seen and won't be stolen. That's because women value their possessions more than their vanity. But the mermaids don't."

"Mm...good observation," Exthame said. "The mermaids are not afraid to leave their valuables in plain sight. That is why every building and structure in Atlantis is riddled with precious gems and stones. They wish to show off their wealth."

"So...the treasure might be in plain sight?" Blackthorn said.

Malkav stopped pacing. "I'd say it's likely in plain sight...but only to certain people. Like Queen Marisette."

"Oh, great," Jargon said. "So, why don't we just wait enough for Her Royal Fishtail to send us an invite to the next ball so that we may sneak into her secret chambers and steal her most precious jewel without her or any of the other mermaids noticing?"

"Well... I don't know about a ball, but I do know that the mermaids convene once a month in the opera house for a musical."

"And why would you know this?" Blackthorn asked with a raise of his eyebrow. "Are you hiding a skirt behind those pants?"

"...I know this because I've been studying every contingency of this escape plan for the past three years," Malkav said. "The opera house is directly connected to Queen Marisette's throne room. If we can find a way in there, we can gain access to her throne room and find the scarab while all the mermaids are watching the opera."

"You want to break into the opera house...at a time when every mermaid in Atlantis is in there?" Adam asked.

Blackthorn scoffed. "Why don't we just serve ourselves to the mermaids on a platter now?"

They started to argue, but Malkav held up his hand.

"It's the only time when we know Marisette won't be at her throne," he said.

"And what makes you so sure the scarab is even in there?"

"I don't," Malkav admitted, and the argument started up again. It culminated with Blackthorn and Jargon shoving Adam back and forth between them.

"Would you stop this?" Malkav asked, turning to Exthame.

Exthame flashed him a sly grin.

"You cannot blame them for being afraid," he said.

"Afraid?" Jargon echoed. He stopped pushing Adam, who immediately fell to the ground. "I'll have you know that pirates aren't afraid of anything!"

"It seems to me you are afraid of many a thing," Exthame said. "You are afraid of the mermaids and this place, which is understandable...but you are also afraid of the unknown. You don't know for certain where the treasure is, and so you fear taking a risk to end up empty-handed. You have forgotten that treasure-hunting is more than matching paces on a map and searching for the 'x' that marks the spot. If it was that easy, everybody would be pirates. What makes us exceptional is that we are willing to take chances and face the unknown, understanding we don't always know where we are going or what treasures we will find. The greatest treasures are the ones you were never searching for to begin with."

Jargon stared at him for a minute and then threw back his head and guffawed.

"I never have any clue what you are saying, Exthame, but you make it sound good!" he said. "I knew we allowed you to join a crew for a reason."

Meanwhile, Blackthorn was fighting back a tear.

"That's...so true," he said. "I...thought I was looking for gold and jewels all my life, but instead I found you guys. My friends... I love you guys."

Then he looked around because he noticed everybody was staring at him.

"...Did I just speak that aloud?" he asked. "Er, I mean...uh...arr! Pirates forever!"

Malkav lowered his head and pinched the space between his eyes.

-------------------------

"...and that's why they call them the Atlantis man-of-war."

The room exploded in laughter as Zana finished telling her twelfth man-getting-killed-by-sea-creature joke of the night.

"That was your best one yet," one of the other pygmies said. "Who would've thought a man could mistake the tentacles of a jellyfish for a rope?"

"That's why you'll never see a man escape from here," Zana said. "Even if they did, they wouldn't know whether to swim up or down to get back home!"

Fayrelin chuckled half-heatedly.

"What's wrong with you tonight?" the pygmy next to her asked, nudging Fayrelin's shoulder. "You're usually laughing the hardest at the stupidity of men."

"I don't know," Fayrelin said. "I guess I'm just a little out of it tonight. Maybe I should get to bed."

"She's just having issues with one of the fish," Zana said, completely ignoring the nasty glare she got from Fayrelin.

"Only one of them?" another pygmy asked. "They all get on my nerves."

Everybody but Fayrelin fell over laughing.

"Would you lighten up already?" Zana said, reaching into the crate she was sitting on and tossing Fayrelin another bottle of rum. "We're here to have fun. Forget the fish."

"It's kinda hard with you telling jokes about them all the time..."

The room got awkwardly silent and the pygmies shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Okay," Zana said, nodding her head and smiling, even though it was clear she was doing it through grinding teeth. "No more fish jokes."

"Thank you," Fayrelin said, opening the bottle with her teeth and spitting the cap onto the floor.

"...Why don't you tell us a 'clean' joke then?" Zana asked. "I'm sure the rest of us would love to hear from you. Isn't that right, girls?"

The other pygmies mumbled something, which was mostly a reluctant agreement.

"I'm not sure I can come up with a good joke tonight," Fayrelin said.

Zana leaned back on the crate. "Then a story. Even a sponge could come up with a story."

Fayrelin took a slow sip of rum, feeling the heated gaze of all the other pygmies watching her, waiting for something to come out of her mouth besides alcohol. Finally, she lowered the bottle to her waist and held it between her knees.

"...Do any of you ever think back to your lives before Atlantis?" she asked. "I mean, we all used to be surface pygmies at some point. None of us were born here, but we sure act like it."

"Fay, I don't—" Zana started.

"I used to be a thief," Fayrelin interrupted. When that didn't get a reaction, she looked around the room at the other pygmies. "I stole things from people. I made a living off it. I've always been good at luring people in and making them do my bidding so that I can benefit from it."

"Where are you going with this?" Zana asked.

"Those...those 'fish' I am having issues with..." Fayrelin stared into her rum and swashed it around. "I first met them about five years ago. From the first time I saw them, I knew they were drunken buffoons and I could trick them into doing anything...so I challenged them to a contest. If I could guess how many gold coins they had in the treasure chest on their ship, then they would have to hand their ship and all their belongings over to me. If I was wrong, I would give them my ship."

The pygmies looked at each other, confused.

"...I never had a ship," Fayrelin said. "It had hit on the rocks a few days before and all my cargo had sunken to the bottom of the sea. I saw the pirates sail by and fish up some of my cargo...including my treasure chest. I knew exactly how many gold coins were in there. That was my life's savings."

"So, wait..." Zana said. "You challenged them to a rigged contest, knowing you would win, and they would have to give up their ship?"

"...Yes. Then they tried for double or nothing by having me guess what was in my own jewelry box. Six earrings, two necklaces, and an emerald ring." She sighed. "That's the kind of person I am, girls... A thief and a liar."

It was then that she noticed all the other pygmies were rolling on the floor laughing. Even Zana was cracking up and nearly fell off her crate.

"I was wrong about you," Zana laughed. "That was the best story I've ever heard. Fish really are stupid!"

Fayrelin cocked her head to the side. What was so funny? They should have been hiding their valuables and reprimanding her—not laughing and slapping her back.

"Here's to Fay," Zana said, raising her bottle and making a toast. "May all her victims be as dull as those fish."

"To Fay!" the others said, clicking bottles in the air.

Fayrelin watched them drink and then took a long swig of ale, smiling happily to herself.