Page 43 of A Yulean Sister’s Guide to Getting Kidnapped

Another large wave came along, but I adjusted. Years at sea made me more adaptable to these things, and I couldn’t deny the tail made me steadier than most with two legs. “Did you find anything of note, Bramwell?”

He shook his head. “Still nothing. I find records of supercharged magestones, but they always break eventually. No curses that cause this kind of hold over someone. It truly is a mystery, like something out of a fairy tale.”

I nodded, my mind wandering. “Fairy tales,” I mused aloud.

“What about them?” Connie asked, her dagger out and cleaning her nails.

“That could be it. We’ve been looking at records, facts. But some of the greatest facts reside inside of stories told to children!”

His eyes widened. “You’re right. We assume it all to be fictional.”

“But what if it isn’t,” I continued, excited at the prospect of finding what we needed. “They all at least hold some moral truth, but what if there were ones that held the answer?”

“It’s a long shot,” Connie mused.

“Everything about this is,” I agreed. “And this might just work.”

I could see Bramwell’s wheels turning. “Yes, let’s explore this option. There isn’t a similar one that comes to mind, but I will do some research.”

“We should probably ask her a few questions,” Connie said. “Something she says could be the key.”

I thought it over. Recalling her distress yesterday made me a bit anxious. “I don’t think she knows anything.”

“Even not, how the necklace found her could prove to be useful,” Bramwell said, siding with Connie.

“I’ll consider it,” I said.

The silent stares were so harsh I could feel them. “Why the hell are you⁠—”

“Captain?” A voice called from outside, saving my ass, at least for the moment.

“Yes, Links?” I called back.

Connie huffed, but this came first. We wouldn’t be interrupted if it wasn’t for a reason.

“You might want to get to the second deck. You or the quartermaster. There’s been a bit of an… incident.”

Connie and I looked at each other, each sure exactly what he meant.

We both headed up while Bramwell promised to continue his search.

The problem wasn’t instantly obvious, until we saw water pouring from underneath the laundry room.

“What’s going on?” Connie asked before I could get a word in.

I flung the door open and it took my brain a moment to piece together what I was actually looking at.

Water flooded one of the buckets, pouring over to the floor and creating a mass of bubbles that was halfway to my waist.

Sage was against the wall on the other side, seeming to have slipped. Her dress was soaked through, her once tidy plait a mess around her.

I helped her up while someone behind me stopped the faucet.

“Get this cleaned up,” I said, guiding Sage out of the room.

No one said anything as we left, but I knew I’d have things to answer later.

Sage followed me silently, but I could feel her stewing beside me.