"Namonai." That sounds like Esilea, but that doesn't mean I'm moving. I turn over, covering my head with my hands. Just five more minutes, then I promise I'll get up. I scrunch up tighter on the floor. "Namonai!" Not now. The cell doors rattle and my eyes crack open, my vision blurry for a brief moment. Fine, I'm up.

"Finally." I sit up, leaving a trail of blood in my wake. I have got to stop waking up in strange places. That was fun when it was with the silk caravans in Ismar. But in Malor? Not so much. It's a dungeon every time.

"Esilea?" I croak. Gods, I could use a drink. And I'm surrounded by undrinkable salt water. I groan and rub my eyes, but the tall warrior doesn't disappear.

"Who else?" Wheels creak behind her and Icarus rolls into view. He rubs a thin paste onto the lock and strikes a match.

"You might want to stand back," he warns. I crab walk to the farthest corner of the cell. The paste smolders and explodes, sending small bits of metal, hay, and wood flying in all directions. I grip the bars and yank myself to my feet, struggling to stay upright. "It worked!" Icarus shouts with glee. Oh, that's comforting.

"How did you find me?" I rasp. I continue to use the bars to support myself, making my way gingerly over to the dynamic duo. Esilea jerks her thumb back to Wikolia. She's standing alone against the wall flicking her tongue at me. I think that means she's happy to see me.

"Marinette came by the tavern," Icarus says. He holds his hand out and I give it a firm shake; gods, it's good to see these two again. And the Wyvern, of course.

"The Kitsune refused to come," Wikolia says softly. I shrug, leaning against the bars. They've just begun to cool off from the heat; it's just what my sore muscles need.

"Naiomi wouldn't leave her bar undefended," I reason. I push myself up and the sudden movement makes me wince. Esilea steps forward, but I wave her off. The fact that she cares, though, is almost...nice. "Besides, I have all the help I need right here." I clap Esilea on her shoulder and wince again; she's solid muscle. Note to self: refrain from touching Esilea when sore.

"So, what's the plan?" Icarus blinks up at me with those big eyes of his. Wait, what?

"You don't have a plan?" Everybody avoids eye contact with me; I think even the Wyvern is looking away. Esilea shuffles awkwardly.

"We, uh, thought you would have one."

"I was the prisoner! Why would I have the plan?" Nobody answers me, and I sigh. Children, I work with a bunch of children. "Fine, okay. Fine. We can do this. Wikolia, take Icarus to find the captain's quarters. He has plans for cannons we need to steal."

"Why does she need Icarus?" Esilea asks, keeping a tight hold on her young companion's chair.

"Because the captain is also a mage, and Icarus is the only one who can decipher any of that gibberish." Icarus frowns and yanks his chair free from Esilea's grip.

"I'll go," he says, setting his jaw. That was easy. I lean forward, my bruised ribs threatening to crack.

"Wikolia will grab the plans. You need to whip something up that will incapacitate the crew. Preferably," I use the handles on his wheelchair to stand, "something that won't kill everybody in the process."

"Since when do you care about killing others?" Wikolia asks while pushing off the wall. Didn't I already go over this with her?

"Since I don't want one of the largest merchant companies in the world hunting me," I retort. There's a moment of tense silence, and then the Wyvern nods. Good. She wheels Icarus out of the room. Esilea watches, her entire body rigid, eyes following them for as long as she can see. She turns to me, folding her arms across her chest.

"I still don't see why I couldn't take him," she says. Oh don't pout, it's unbecoming.

"Because I need that magic satchel of yours, and your combat experience to fight Arboran, the captain. When I took on the boar god with Wikolia, I was I lucky I wasn't vivisected by those damn whips of hers. I need someone trained."

"You fought a boar god?" I nod and she harrumphs. "I missed all the fun."

"You'll have plenty of fun. Now," I rip off a loose bandage from my face and bite down on it, speaking through my teeth, "Put my shoulder back in its socket, and let's do this."